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The  Dance 


BALLET   PANTOMLME 
From  pose  by  Mile.  Louise  La  Gai 


THE  DANCE 

ITS    PLACE    IN    ART    AND    LIFE 


BY 

TROY  AND  MARGARET  WEST  KINNEY 
("the  kinneys") 


With  a  Jrontispiece  in  colour  and  one  hundred  and  seventy-six  line 

drawings  and  diagrams  by  the  authors,  and  three  hundred 

and  thirty-Jour  illustrations  in  black-and-white 

from  photographs 


u) 


\'^ 

i 


NEW  YORK 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

MCMXIV 


COPYRIGHT,     191  4,    BY 
FREDERICK    A.     STOKES    COMPANY 


All  rights  reserved,  including 

that  of  translation  into 

foreign  languages 


April,  1 91 4 


THK'Pl-IUPTOK-PREaa 
NORWOOO-MASS-U-S-A 


To 

A    FELLOW-ENTHUSIAST 

J.   T.   W. 

WITH    APPRECIATION 


PREFACE 

The  pleasant  responsibility  of  writing  about  one  of 
our  two  overwhelming  enthusiasms  was  accepted  by  us 
only  after  consultation  with  friends  in  the  dancing  pro- 
fession. 

"A  book  of  technical  instruction  is  not  the  idea,"  we 
started  to  explain. 

"No,"  they  concurred,  "that  would  not  be  an  under- 
taking for  painters.  Only  an  experienced  master  of 
dancing  should  write  such  a  book,  and  he  would  not  be 
likely  to,  because  he  would  know  that  execution  is 
taught  only  by  personal  criticism  of  a  pupil's  work." 

We  hastened  to  specify  that  the  proposal  involved 
no  more — and  no  less — than  an  effort  to  share  our  en- 
thusiasm with  others.  Appreciation  of  an  art  requires 
no  faculties  not  included  .in  the  normal  human  equip- 
ment ;  more  than  anything  else  it  is  a  matter  of  knowing 
what  to  look  for.  When  a  layman  comes  to  a  painter 
asking  what  it  is  that  people  find  so  enjoyable  in  classic 
mural  decoration,  the  answer  is  not  difficult.  A  few 
hours  in  an  art  museum,  with  some  direction  of  his  at- 
tention to  line  as  a  vehicle  of  beauty,  acquaint  him  with 
the  idea  of  beauty  as  a  self-sufficient  object;  and  he  goes 
on  his  way  rejoicing  in  the  possession  of  a  lasting  proc- 
ess of  making  happiness  for  himself. 

Great  dancing,  to  us,  always  had  been  a  gratification 
of  the  same  senses  that  are  addressed  by  decoration. 
The  same  suggestions,  therefore,  that  convey  the  power 
to  enjoy  classic  mural  painting,  would  enable  us  to  com- 


viii  PREFACE 

municate  our  satisfaction  in  the  dance.  But  the  ques- 
tion arose,  was  our  point  of  view  on  dancing  in  accord 
with  its  real  intent,  and  that  of  its  performers  and  com- 
posers ? 

Madame  Cavallazi  disposed  of  the  doubt  at  one 
stroke.     "The  ballet,"  she  said,  'Hs  mural  decoration." 

Sanctioned  by  such  authority,  we  have  followed  the 
lines  above  indicated,  treating  the  dance  from  the  stand- 
point of  pure  optical  beauty.  Its  enjoyment,  experi- 
ence proves,  is  distinctly  sharpened  by  acquaintance 
with  choreographic  technique.  One  not  fairly  familiar 
with  the  resources  of  the  art,  though  he  be  conscious 
that  the  dance  before  his  eyes  is  progressing,  like  music, 
in  conformity  with  an  artistic  argument,  is  confused  by 
the  speed  and  seeming  intricacy  of  steps.  As  a  result 
he  loses  the  greater  part  of  the  beauty  of  the  succession 
of  pictures  unfolded  before  him.  Whereas  the  ability 
to  grasp  the  theme  of  a  composition,  and  then  to  follow 
its  elaboration  through  a  vocabulary  of  already  familiar 
steps,  is  in  effect  to  quicken  the  vision.  Instead  of  be- 
ing harassed  by  a  sensation  of  scrambling  to  keep  up 
with  the  argument,  the  spectator  finds  himself  with 
abundant  time  to  luxuriate  in  every  movement,  every 
posture.  And,  like  a  connoisseur  of  any  other  art,  he 
sees  a  thousand  beauties  unnoticed  by  the  untrained. 

To  the  end  of  furnishing  the  needed  acquaintance 
with  the  alphabet  of  the  art,  the  book  includes  a  chapter 
of  explanation  of  the  salient  steps  of  the  ballet.  These 
steps,  with  superficial  variations  and  additions,  form 
the  basis  also  of  all  natural  or  "character"  dances  that 
can  lay  claim  to  any  consideration  as  interpretative  art. 
It  is  convenient  to  learn  the  theories  of  them  as  accepted 
by  the  great  ballet  academies,  since  those  institutions 


PREFACE  ix 

alone  have  defined  them  clearly,  and  brought  to  perfec- 
tion the  ideals  for  their  execution.  Incidentally  the 
school  of  the  ballet  is  made  the  subject  of  considerable 
attention.  In  the  first  place,  after  getting  a  grasp  of 
its  ideals  and  intent,  any  one  will  catch  the  sentiment  of 
a  folk-dance  in  a  moment.  Moreover,  it  is  in  itself  an 
important  institution.  During  its  long  history  it  has 
undergone  several  periods  of  retirement  from  public  at- 
tention, the  most  recent  beginning  about  sixty  years  ago. 
From  this  eclipse  it  has  already  returned  to  the  delighted 
gaze  of  Europe;  as  always  after  its  absences,  so  far 
evolved  beyond  the  standards  within  the  memory  of  liv- 
ing men  that  posterity  seems  to  have  been  robbed  of 
the  chance  of  discovering  anything  further.  The  re- 
naissance is  moving  westward  from  St.  Petersburg; 
London  is  wholly  under  its  influence;  America  has  felt 
a  touch  of  it. 

American  love  of  animated  beauty  and  delight  in  skill 
predestine  us  to  be  a  race  of  ardent  enthusiasts  over 
the  dance.  Among  us,  however,  there  are  many  who 
have  never  accepted  it  as  an  art  worthy  of  serious  at- 
tention. As  a  gentle  answer  to  that  point  of  view,  a 
historical  resume  is  included,  wherein  statesmen,  phi- 
losophers and  monarchs  show  the  high  respect  in  which 
the  art  has  been  held,  save  in  occasional  lapses,  in  all 
periods  of  civilised  history. 

Direct  practical  instruction  is  furnished  on  the  sub- 
ject of  present-day  ballroom  dancing,  to  the  extent  of 
clear  and  exact  directions  for  the  performance  of  steps 
now  fashionable  in  Europe  and  America.  The  chap- 
ter was  prepared  under  the  careful  supervision  of  Mr. 
John  Murray  Anderson. 

Neither  in  word  nor  picture  does  the  book  contain 


X  PREFACE 

any  statement  not  based  upon  the  authors'  personal 
knowledge,  or  choreographic  writings  of  unquestioned 
authority,  or  the  word  of  dancers  or  ballet-masters  of 
the  utmost  reliability.  To  these  artists  and  to  certain 
managers  we  are  greatly  indebted.  Much  of  the  mat- 
ter has  never  before  been  printed  in  English;  a  consid- 
erable portion  of  it  has  here  its  first  publication  in  any 
language.  The  illustrations  of  dances  of  modern  times 
are  made  from  artists  in  the  very  front  rank  of  their 
respective  lines.  If  the  new  material  so  contributed  to 
choreographic  literature  proves,  according  to  the  belief 
of  dancers  who  have  read  the  manuscript,  to  be  of  value 
to  producers,  the  authors  will  experience  the  gratifica- 
tion that  comes  of  having  been  of  service.  But  their 
efforts  will  be  more  directly  repaid  if  the  influence  of 
the  book  hastens  by  a  day  that  insistence  upon  a  high 
choreographic  ideal  in  America,  and  that  unification  of 
dance-lovers  which  must  exist  in  order  that  worthy  pro- 
ductions may  be  reasonably  insured  of  recognition  in 
proportion  to  their  quality. 

Finally,  a  word  of  thanks  to  those  whose  aid  has  made 
this  book  possible.  Though  busy,  as  successful  people 
always  are,  they  have  given  time  and  thought  unspar- 
ingly to  the  effort,  in  co-operation  with  the  authors,  to 
make  this  a  substantial  addition  to  the  layman's  under- 
standing of  the  dancing  art. 

T.  K.  and  M.  W.  K. 
New  York,  November,  1913. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  '  PACT 

I.  The  Danqng  of  Ancient  Egypt  and  Greece 3 

The  dance  a  primitive  emotional  expression.    Importance  in  Egyptian 

religious  ritual.  Biblical  allusions.  Its  high  place  in  Greek  civ- 
ilisation. Origin  attributed  to  the  gods.  Employed  in  observances 
religious,  civic,  and  private.  Practice  decreed  by  Lycurgus  for 
military  discipline  and  cultivation  of  national  stamina.  A  feature 
of  Plato's  "Ideal  Republic."  Ballet  in  drama.  Interacting  in- 
fluence between  dance  and  sculpture. 

II.  Dancing  in  Rome 22 

Simplicity  of  early  Roman  taste  and  manners  enforced  by  poverty. 
Vulgarity  with  riches.  Degeneration  of  dancing  with  other  arts, 
under  Empire.  Acrobatics,  obscenity.  Ballet  pantomime.  Py- 
lades  and  Bathyllus. 

III.  The  Middle  Ages  and  the  Renaissance 29 

The  Christian  Church  lifts  dance  from  degradation.  Ballet  d'action 
in  ritual  of  worship.  A  cause  of  disagreements  between  eccles- 
iastical dignitaries.  The  Seises  of  Seville  Cathedral  preservers 
of  dance  in  religious  service.  Moralities,  etc.  Mechanical  effects. 
Ambulatory  ballets. 

Rebirth  of  polite  society;  the  masque.  Cardinal  Riario.  Cath- 
erine de  Medici,  direct  influence  toward  modern  ballet.  Elizabeth 
of  England.  Richelieu,  composer.  Louis  XIV,  ballet  performer, 
founder  of  national  academy. 

Dawn  of  stars.  Salle.  Prevost.  Camargo.  New  standards. 
Expression.  New  steps  added  to  those  derived  from  old  dances: 
Gavotte,  Minuet,  Pavane,  Saraband,  Tordion,  Bourree,  Passecaille, 
Passe  pied,  Chaconne,  Volte,  Allemande,  Gaillarde,  and  Courante. 
Their  formality;  illustrations. 

IV.  A  Glance  at  the  Ballet's  Technique 59 

Visual  music:  dance  steps  are  notes,  an  enchainement  is  a  phrase, 

a  dance-composition  is  a  song,  the  ballet  is  an  orchestra.  Ballet 
dancing,  as  such,  not  based  on  imitation  of  nature;  a  convention, 
analogous  to  ornamental  decoration.  Intent:  perfect  beauty  of 
line  and  rhythm;  abstract  qualities  exploited.  Importance  of 
Pantomime  unsettled. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  •  PAGE 

Ballet  dancing  can  be  seen  intelligently  only  by  aid  of  ac- 
quaintance with  elemental  steps.  Fundamental  positions  of  feet 
and  hands.  Gliding  steps:  chasse,  echappe,  coupe,  etc.  Batte- 
ments,  grand,  petit,  Changement.  Entrechat.  Brise.  Ballone. 
Enchainements.    Pas  de  Bourree,  pas  de  Basque. 

Turns  and  pirouettes.  Rond  de  jambe.  Fouette.  Sur  le  cou- 
de-pied;  en  I'air.    Renverse.    En  arabesque,  etc.    Optical  illusions. 

Phrasing.     Theme.    Motive. 

'Standards  of  form.  Exactness.  Beneficial  relaxation  of  for- 
mality; results  of  unguided  emancipation. 

V.  The  Golden  Age  of  Dancing ico 

Early  eighteenth  century  finds  ballet  profiting  by  many  favourable  ln~ 

fiuences.  Royal  patronage.  Public  enthusiasm  and  discernment. 
Great-minded  artists  in  co-operation.  Fortunate  accidents.  The 
Vestris,  father  and  son.  Noverre,  "  the  Shakespeare  of  the 
dance."  Boucher,  designer  of  stage  decoration.  Gluck.  Costum- 
ing. 

Rivalries  of  Camargo  and  Salle;  Allard  and  Guimard.  Coterie 
of  great  performers.    French  Revolution. 

Dance  resumed  with  return  of  peace.  An  ambassador  as  im- 
presario. Public  controversy  and  enthusiasm  over  Taglioni  and 
Ellsler;  opposites;  none  to  replace  them;  singing  supersedes  dan- 
cing in  opera. 

VI.  Spanish  Dancing 121 

Gaditanae  in  Roman  literature.  Spanish  dancing  resists  Roman  cor- 
ruption, Gothic  brutality.    Favouring  influence  of  Moors.    Attitude 

of  the  Church.    Public  taste  and  discrimination. 

Two  schools.  Flamenco  (Gipsy  origin)  and  Classic.  The  Gipsy. 
La  Farruca,  el  Tango,  el  Garrotin;  distinct  character.  Costume. 
Classic:  Seguidillas  family.  Las  Sevillanas;  general  character. 
The  Fandango  rarely  seen.  La  Malaguena  y  el  Torero.  Las 
Malagueiias.  The  Bolero.  Castanets.  Los  Panaderos.  The  Jota 
of  Aragon,  character,  costume,  etc.    Other  dances. 

VII.  Italian  Dances 156 

The  Forlana  of  Venice:  Harlequin,  Columbine,  Dr.  Pantalone.  Pan- 
tomime and  tableaux.  The  Tarantella,  character,  costume.  The 
Ciociara  of  Romagna.  Italian  fondness  for  pantomime.  The  Sal- 
tarello.    La  Siciliana,  la  Ruggera,  la  Trescona,  etc. 

VIII.  European  FoLK-DANaNG  in  General 164 

Folk-dancing  an  expression  of  social  conditions.    Scotch  nationalism. 

The  Sword  Dance;  the  Highland  Fling;  the  Scotch  Reel.    Mo- 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

fives,  basic  steps.  Reel  of  Tulloch.  The  Shean  Treuse.  Eng- 
land: Sailor's  Hornpipe.  Morris  Dances.  Recent  revival  of  old 
dances.  Ireland:  Jig,  Reel  and  Hornpipe.  Intent,  steps,  devices 
of  tempo.  Irish  festivals;  Gaelic  League.  Sweden:  recent  revival 
of  old  dances.  The  Skralat;  Kadriljs.  The  Vafva  Vadna;  the 
Daldans.  Holland:  the  Matelot.  France:  la  Bourree,  la  Faran- 
dole.  Specimen  freak  dances:  the  Perchtentans,  the  Bacchu-ber. 
The  Schuhplatteltanz  of  Bavaria.  Balkan  region:  the  Kolo.  De- 
generation of  dancing  in  Greece.  Russia:  Cossack  Dance,  Court 
Dance.  Slavonic  character  and  steps:  the  Czardas;  the  Mazurka; 
the  Szolo;  the  Obertass.     Temperament. 

IX.  Oriental  Dancing ig6 

Symbolism,  decoration,  pantomime ,  story  in  the  dance.  Sensational 
mismanagement  in  Occidental  countries.  Mimetic  dancing  a  sub- 
stitute for  newspapers.  The  Dance  of  Greeting;  welcome,  bless- 
ings, etc.  Structure  of  Arabic  choreography.  Handkerchief 
Dance  of  Cafes;  candour.  Flour  Dance.  Popular  narrative 
dances.  Fantasia  of  Bedoui;  religious  outbreaks.  Dancing  for 
tourists;  the  Almees.  Dance,  Awakening  of  the  Soul.  Animate 
sculpture.  Oriental  technique.  Sword  Dance  of  Turkey.  Der- 
vishes. Lezginkd  of  the  Caucasus.  Ruth  St.  Denis;  Nautch;  ^ 
Spirit  of  Incense;  the  Temple;  the  Five  Senses.  Antiquity; 
carvings  in  India  and  Java.  Hula-Hula  of  Hawaii.  Priestesses 
trained  for  religious  dancing.  Japan:  dancing  for  all  occasions. 
Abstractness  of  symbols.    Dances  of  war. 

X.  The  Ballet  in  its  Dark  Age 228 

Sterilisation  of  ballet  by  struggle  for  technical  virtuosity.    Ballet  in 

opera.  Vulgarisms  and  counterfeits:  the  Can-Can;  contortion; 
high  kicking ;  skirt-dancing ;  insipid  prettiness.  A  revival  of  good 
work;  falsifications  of  it.  Loie  Fuller,  silk  scarf,  electric  lights. 
Serpentine  and  Fire  dances.  Imitators.  World's  Fair  of  iSgs; 
stigma  on  Oriental  dancing.  One  class  of  managers.  Obscure 
preparation  of  a  new  force. 

XL    The  Romantic  Revolution 241 

Isadora  Duncan,  complete  idealist.  Her  metier.  Russia:  dissatisfac- 
tion with  ballet.  Duncan  in  St.  Petersburg.  Secession  from  Im- 
perial Academy.  The  romantic  idea;  choreography,  music,  paint- 
ing united  in  a  radical  new  school.  The  Russian  ballet.  Paris, 
United  States,  England.  Influence  and  reception.  Management 
in  America. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XII.  The  Russian  Academy  and  Its  Workings 257 

Selection  of  pupils.  Consecration  to  work.  Contract,  obligations 
after  graduation.  Advantages  to  the  government.  General  edu- 
cation. Technical  training:  Italian  ballet  technique,  music,  draw- 
ing, acting,  pantomime,  plastic  gymnastics,  fencing.  Care  of  health. 
Age  of  Academy.  Russian  ballet  as  distinguished  from  French- 
Italian;  law-governed  freedom.  Addition  to  emotional  scope. 
Recent  ballet  pantomimes. 

XIII.  Social  Dancing  of  To-day 269 

Revived  interest  in  dancing.  New  forms  of  dance  suited  to  the  pres- 
ent freedom  of  individual  expression.  Rapid  changes.  The  Tur- 
key Trot.  New  names  for  slightly  altered  dances  already  familiar. 
The  Argentine  Tango;  significance.  Detailed  instruction  for  per- 
formance of  the  One-Step,  the  Boston,  the  Hesitation  Walts,  the 
Tango,  the  Brazilian  Maxixe.  Tendencies  toward  revival  of  old 
court  dances. 

XIV.  A  Layman's  Estimate  of  Conditions 304 

Re-establishment  of  great  dancing  in  the  United  States;  will  it  take 

and  keep  a  high  plane?  Loose  standards  of  judgment.  Depend- 
ence upon  commercial  management.  Managers;  their  varied  in- 
fluences. Need  of  endowed  ballet  and  academy.  Difficulties  of 
ballet  organisation  in  the  United  States.  Insufficient  training  of 
American  ballet  dancers.  Ballet  in  operas;  unimportance  under 
old  traditions,  changing  standards.  Metropolitan  and  Russian  bal- 
let; ground  gained  and  partly  lost.  Russians  under  other  auspices. 
Ballet  school;  impositions  upon  it.  Need  of  academy  with  dan- 
cing as  primary  purpose.  General  organisation;  departures  from 
scheme  of  Russian  Academy. 

Bibliography 323 

Index  .,,,,, 327 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Ballet  Pantomime.    From  Pose  by  Mile.  Louise  La  Gat     .  Frontispiece 

Tanagra  Figure Page  3 

Greek  Vase  Decoration "  3 

Tanagra  Figure "  3 

Tanagra  Figures Facing  Page  4 

Greek  Ceramics "         "  S 

Greek  Vase  Decoration Page  8 

Greek  Comedy  Dancing "  9 

Statuettes "  10 

Tanagra  (A)  —  Myrina  (B)  —  Tanagra  (C). 

Greek  Relief  Decorations Facing  Page  12 

Greek  Ceramic  Decorations "         "  13 

Statuettes Page  13 

Myrina  {A)  —  Tanagra  {B)  —  Myrina  (C) 

Dance  of  Nymphs "  17 

Tanagra  Figures Facing  Page  20 

Greek  Comedy  Dancing Page  21 

Dance  of  Peasants "  36 

Ballet  of  the  Four  Parts  of  the  World:   Entrance  of 

the  Grand  Khan "  41 

A  Fourteenth  Century  Ball "  46 

Seventeenth  Century  Court  Dances Facing  Page  48 

The  Tordion  (i,  2)  —  The  Pavane  (3,  4,  5). 

Louis  XIV  and  A  Courtier  in  the  Ballet  of  Night      .  Page  50 

Seventeenth  Century  Court  Dances Facing  Page  54 

The  Saraband  (i)  —  The  Allemand  (3) — The  Minuet  (2,  4, 

5.  6,  7). 

The  Gavotte "         "  55 

Mme.  Adeline  Gen6e  and  M.  Alexander  Volinine  ...  "         "  64 

Ballet  Robert  le  Diable  (i)  —  Butterfly  Dance  (2) — Pierrot 

and  Columbine  (3). 
Mme.  Gen6e  in  Historical  Re-Creations  and  M.  Volin- 
ine         "        "  65 

SalU  {i)  —  The  Waltz  (2)  —  Camargo  ii)—Guimard  (4). 

Fundamental  Positions  of  the  Feet Page  66 


XVI 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Positions  of  the  Arms     

"Glissade" 

"Assemble"      

"Assemble"  and  Changement  {Floor  Plan  Diagram)   .    .   . 

"jETf" 

"Jet^"  to  the  Side 

"Battements" 

Steps  of  the  "Battement"  Type 

"FoUETTf" 

Start  of  A  "FouETrf  Pirouette" 

"FouETTi  Pirouette"  {Continued) 

Optional  Finish  of  a  "Fouette  Pirouette" 

The  "Pirouette  Sur  le  Cou-de-Pied" 

Various  "Pirouettes" 

Beginning  of  the  "Renvers£"     

The  "Renvers6"  {Concluded) 

Two  Forms  of  "Attitude" 

Mechanism  of  Broad  Jump     

Classic  Ballet  Positions 

Typical  moments  in  a  renvers6  (/,  2,  3,  4,  5,)  —  Starting  a 
developp6  {6)  —  Progress  of  a  rond  de  jambe  (7,  8,  q). 

Classic  Ballet  Positions  {Continued) 

Rond  de  jambe  {id) — Jete  tour  {11)  —  Pas  de  bourree  {12)  — 
Preparation  for  a  pirouette  {if)  —  Position  sur  la  pointe 
{14) — A  fouettS  tour,  inward  {14) — A  cabriole  d  derriire 
{16) — Descent  from  an  entrechat  {if)  —  An  arabesque  {18). 

"La  Malaguena  y  el  Torero" 

Typical  "Flamenco"  Poses 

"Flamenco"  Poses 

"Las  Sevillanas" 

"El  Bolero" 

Typical  moment  in  first  copla  (/)  —  Finish  of  a  phrase  {2). 

"La  Jota  Aragonesa"      

Type  of  movement  (/)  —  Finish  of  a  turn  (2)  —  A  pirouette 
(j)  —  Kneeling  position  {4)  —  Woman's  sitting  position  (5). 

Two  Groups  in  "Las  Sevillanas" 

Groups  in  "La  MalagueSa  y  el  Torero" 

Miscellaneous  Spanish  Notes 

Two  Groups  in  "Los  Panaderos" 

Part  of  the  "Jota"  of  Aragon 

"La  Tarantella" 

Opening  of  the  dance  (7)  —  A  poor  collection  {2)  —  They 
gamble  for  it  {la  Morra)  (5)  —  She  wins  {4)  —  He  wins  (5). 


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"       133 

"       137 

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ILLUSTRATIONS  xvii 

"La  Tarantella" Facing  Page    157 

An  arabesque  (/)  —  Finish  of  a  phrase  (2)  —  Typical  mo- 
ment (j)  —  Finish  of  a  phrase  (4). 

"La  Tarantella" "         "       158 

Opening  of  the  dance  (/)  —  A  turn  back-to-back  (2)  —  A 
pause  after  rapid  foot-work  (j)  —  Characteristic  finishes  of 
phrases  (4,  5). 

"La  Forlana"     "         "       159 

Doctor  Pantalone  patronized  (/)  —  Defied  (2)  —  Pleads  (j) 

—  Accepts  the  inevitable  {4)  —  Is  ridiculed  (5). 

"La  Ciociara" "         "       160 

Opening  promenade  (/,  2)  —  End  of  promenade  (J)  —  He 
has  "made  eyes"  at  a  spectator  {4)  — Opening  of  dance 
{second  movement)  (5). 

"La  Ciociara" "         "       161 

Rustic  affection  (/)  —  Again  caught  in  perfidy  (2)  —  Tries 
to  make  amends  (j)  —  Without  success  (4)  —  Removed  from 
temptation  (j). 

The  Scotch  Sword  Dance "         "       164 

A  step  over  the  swords  (/,  2)  —  A  jump  over  the  swords  (j) 

—  Steps  between  the  swords  {4,  5). 

The  "Scotch  Reel" "         "       165 

Use  of  the  Battement  (/)  —  A  pirouette  (2)  —  Characteristic 
style  (3,4)— A  turn  is). 

The  "Shean  Treuse" "         "       168 

The  promenade  (/,  2)  —  The  thematic  step  (j)  —  Finish  of 
a  phrase  {4). 

The  "Sailor's  Hornpipe" "         "       169 

Look-out  (/)  —  Hoisting  sail  (2)  —  Hauling  in  rope  (j)  — 
Rowing  (4)  —  Type  of  step  (j)  —  Type  of  step  (6)  —  Hoist- 
ing sail  (7). 

Irish  Dances "         "       174 

The  Jig  (/,  3,  4)  —  The  Hornpipe  {2,  5)  —  The  Reel  {6,  7, 
8). 

A  "Four-Hand  Reel"  .  *. "         "      175 

Preparation  for  woman's  turn  under  arms  (/)  —  Character- 
istic style  (2)  —  A  turning  group  figure  {3). 

The  "Irish  Jig"  and  Portrait  of  Patrick  J.  Long  ...        "         "       178 

From  Various  Folk-Dances Page    185 

The  "Schuhplatteltanz" Facing  Page    186 

A  swing  (/)  —  A  turn  (2)  —  A  turn,  man  passing  under 
woman's  arms  (3)  —  A  swing,  back-to-back  {4)  —  The 
Mirror  (j). 


xviii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  "Schuhplatteltanz"  of  Bavaria Facing  Page    187 

Preparing  a  turn  (/)  —  A  lijt  {2)  —  Starting  woman's  series 
of  turns  (5)  —  Start  of  woman's  turns  (4)  —  Man  fans  her 
along  with  hands  (5)  —  Finish  of  dance  (6). 

The  "Kolo"  of  Servia "         "       190 

Start  of  a  turn  (/)  —  Progress  of  a  turn  (2)  —  A  bridge  of 
arms  (j)  —  An  emphasis  {4)  —  A  lift  (j). 

Poses  from  Slavonic  Dances     "         "       191 

Coquetry  (/)  —  Petulance  (2)  —  Indifference  (j)  —  Em- 
phasis {4)  —  Jocular  defiance  (5). 

Poses  from  Slavonic  Dances     "         "       192 

Negation  (/)  —  Fear  (2)  —  Supplication  (j)  —  An  empha- 
sis i4). 

Poses  from  Slavonic  Dances "         "      193 

Characteristic  gesture  (/)  —  Characteristic  step  {2)  —  Char- 
acteristic gesture  (j)  —  Characteristic  step  {4)  —  Same,  an- 
other view  (j)  —  Ecstasy  {6)  —  The  claim  of  beauty  (7). 

Arabian  "Dance  of  Greeting" "        "      196 

Called  upon  to  dance,  she  reveals  herself  (/)  —  Salutation  (2) 

—  Profile  view  of  same  (j). 

Arabian  "Dance  of  Greeting"  (Continued) "         "       197 

"  For  you  I  will  dance  "  (4)  —  "  From  here  you  will  put  away 
care"  (j,  8)  —  "Here  you  may  sleep"  (<5)  —  "Here  am  I" 

(7). 
Arabian  "Dance  of  Greeting"  {Continued) "         "       198 

"And  should  you  go  afar"  (p)  —  "May  you  enjoy  Allah's 

blessing  of  rain"  (lo)  —  "And  the  earth's  fullness"  (//). 
Arabian  "Dance  of  Greeting"  (Continued) "         "       199 

"  May  winds  refresh  you "  (12)  —  "  Wherever  you  go "  (if) 

—  "Here  is  your  house"  (14)  — "Here  is  peace"  (75)  — 
"And  your  slave"  (16). 

Arabian  "Dance  of  Mourning" "         "      200 

The  body  approaches  (i)  —  The  body  passes  (2)  —  "  /  hold 

my  sorrow  to  myself"  (j). 
Arabian  "Dance  of  Mourning"  (Continued) "         "      201 

"He  has  gone  out  of  the  house  and  up  to  Heaven"  (4)  — 

"Farewell"  (5). 
Arabian  "Dance  of  Mourning"  (Continued) "         "      202 

"He  slept  in  my  arms"  (6)  —  "  The  house  is  empty"  (7)  — 

"Woe  is  in  my  heart"  (8). 

Arab  Slave  Girl's  Dance "        "      203 

"Handkerchief  Dance"  of  the  Cafes "         *'      206 

The  handkerchiefs  symbolizing  the  lovers  are  animated  with 

the  breath  of  life,  but  kept  dissociated  (/)  —  Brought  into 

semi-association  (2)  —  Separated  and  dropped  (5). 


ILLUSTRATIONS  xix 

"Handkerchief  Dance"  (Continued) Facing  Page    207 

She  can  dance  about,  between  or  away  from  them,  indiffer- 
ently (4)  — Made  into  panniers,  the  panniers  express  her 
willingness  to  receive;  turned  inside  out,  her  willingness  to 
give  (j)  —  One  of  the  two  handkerchiefs  is  thrown  to  the  se- 
lected lover  (6). 

"Dance  of  the  Soul's  Journey"      "         "      210 

The  soulless  body  (/)  —  Jsks  for  the  light  of  life  (2)  —  Vision 
dawns  (j)  —  Inexpert  in  life,  she  walks  gropingly  {4). 

"Dance  of  the  Soul's  Journey"  {Continued) "         "       211 

She  draws  aside  the  veil  of  the  future  (5)  —  Life  is  seen  full 
and  plenteous  (6). 

"Dance  of  the  Soul's  Journey"  {Continued) "         "      212 

But  old  age  will  come  (7)  —  Grief  will  visit  {8)  —  She  shall 
walk  with  her  nose  close  to  the  camel' s  foot  (p). 

"Dance  of  the  Soul's  Journey"  {Continued) "         "       213 

Yet  now,  from  the  crown  of  her  head  {10)  —  To  the  soles  of  her 
feet  she  is  perfect  {11). 

Miscellaneous  Oriental  Notes Page    215 

"Dance  of  the  Soul's  Journey"  {Continued) Facing  Page    216 

Rejoices  in  the  perfect  body  {12)  —  And  in  all  good  things 
(/j)  —  Runs  from  the  scene  {14). 
Characteristic     Pantomime     in     Dancing     of     Modern 

Egypt "         "      217 

Express  sorrow  {i,  j)  —  Represents  a  prayer  directed  doton- 
ward  and  back:  i.e.,  to  spirits  of  evil  {2). 

"Dance  of  the  Falcon"  (Egyptian) "         "      218 

Shock  as  the  bird  strikes  his  quarry  (/)  —  Rejoicing  as  he 
overcomes  it  {2). 

Dancing  Girls  of  Algiers "         "      219 

Reliefs  on  Tower  of  the  Temple  of  Madura  (India)    ,  Page    219 

Persian  Dance.    Princess  Chirinski-Chichmatoff     .    .   .    Facing  Page    220 

Oriental  Poses       "         "      221 

Votive  offering  (j  poses)  —  Decorative  motives  {3  poses)  — 
Disclosure  of  person  {i  pose). 

Javanese  Dancer,  Modern "         "      222 

Relief  Carvings,  Temple  of  Borobodul,  Java "         "      223 

Dance  of  Greeting  (/)  —  Dance  of  Worship  {2)  —  An  Arrow 
Dance  (j). 

"Nautch  Dance" "         "      226 

Japanese  Dance "         "      227 

Isadora  Duncan "         "       242 

Greek  Interpretative  Dance "         "      243 

Impressions  of  Isadora  Duncan Page    244 


ing  Page 

246 

<i    « 

247 

«    « 

248 

249 

«    <( 

252 

«    « 

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"    " 

257 

(f    « 

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**    " 

259 

«    « 

262 

«    « 

263 

Page 

265 

" 

267 

ing  Page 

272 

XX  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Mlle.  Lopoukowa,  Mlle.  Pavlowa,  Mlle.  Nijinska,  with 

Sr.  E.  Ceccetti Facing  Page 

Mlle.  Lydia  Kyasht  and  M.  Lytazkin 

"Arabesque" , 

"Arrow  Dance"     , 

Bacchanal , 

Mlle.  Lydia  Lopoukowa , 

Mlle.  Pavlowa  in  a  Bacchanal •   •   • 

Mlle.  Lopoukowa,  in  Boudoir , 

Mlle.  Lopoukowa,  Interpretative  Dance 

Mlle.  Lopoukowa,  In  "Le  Lac  Des  Cygnes" 

M.  Alexander  Volinine , 

Representative  Russian  Ballet  Poses  and  Groups  .  , 
Representative  Russian  Ballet  Poses  and  Groups  .  . 
The  "Waltz  Minuet" Facing  Page 

Characteristic  style  (/)  —  Variation,  position  of  hands  (2) 

—  Preparation  for  a  turn  (j)  —  The  Mirror  figure  {4). 
The  "Gavotte"  Showing  Present  Tendencies "         "      273 

Characteristic  style  (/)  —  Characteristic  style  {2)  —  A  curtsy 

(j)  —  Arabesque  to  finish  a  phrase  {4). 

Social  Dancing;    Position  of  Feet  (Diagram) Page    276 

The  One-Step:   The  Turn  (Diagram) "      277 

The  One-Step:   Grape-Vine  (Diagram) "      278 

The  One-Step:    Eight  (Diagram) "      279 

The  One-Step:    Square  (Diagram) "      279 

The  One-Step:   A  Figure  Occupying  Three  Measures 

(Diagram) "       280 

The  One-Step:   The  Murray  Anderson  Turn  (Diagram)  "      281 

The  One-Step:   A  Cross-Over  (Diagram) "      282 

Development  of  an  Arch  "A  La  Pirouette" Facing  Page    282 

Cross  to  right  (i)  —  Cross  to  left  (2)  —  Start  of  turn  (3). 
The  One-Step "         "      283 

The  "Kitchen  Sink"  (i)  — Position  of  couple  (2). 
The  "Brazilian  Maxixe" "         "      283 

Characteristic  position  of  advanced  foot  (j). 

The  "Boston,"   Essential  Step  (Diagram) Page    284 

The  Waltz Facing  Page    284 

A  position  of  the  couple  in  the  Waltz-Minuet  (i)  —  Correct 

position  of  man's  hand  on  woman's  back  (2)  —  A  position 

also  assumed  in  the  One-step  Eight  (5)  —  A  Dip  (4). 
The  Waltz "        "      285 

Correct  position  of  couple  (i)  —  Of  feet,  in  short  steps  (2)  — 

Of  feet,  in  Dip  (3)  —  Another  view  of  the  Dip  (4). 

The  Boston,  Step  Backward  (Diagram)      Page    285 

The  Boston,  The  Dip  (Diagram) "      286 


ILLUSTRATIONS  xxi 

The  Boston,  The  Dip  Simplified  (Diagram)      Page    287 

The  Boston,  An  Embellishment  {Diagram) "      288 

The  Boston,  An  Embellishment  (Diagram) "      288 

The  Boston,  Same,  with  Turns  (Diagram) "      289 

The  "Hesitation  Waltz,"  Theme  (Diagram) "      289 

The    "Hesitation   Waltz"    Variation    on   Theme    (Dia- 
gram)   "      290 

The  "Tango" Facing  Page    290 

Characteristic  style  (/,  2,  4)  —  Woman  circles  man  (3). 

The  "Tango" "         "      291 

Characteristic  style. 
The  "Hesitation  Waltz,"  the  "Lyon  Chasse,"  (Diagram).  Page    291 

The  "Tango" Facing  Page    294 

The  "Tango" "         "      295 

The  reverse  (i)  —  The  regular  Tango  walking  step  (2)  — 
Style  of  movement  (3)  —  Position  of  hands  sometimes  as- 
sumed to  emphasize  the  end  of  a  phrase  (4). 

The  "Tango,"  The  "Corte"  (Diagram)      Page    295 

The  "Tango,"  The  Scissors  (Diagram) "      295 

The  "Tango,"  The  Scissors  Variation  (Diagram)  ....  "      296 

The  "Tango,"  The  Media  Luna  (Diagram) "      296 

The  "Tango" Facing  Page    296 

The  corte  (i)  —  Characteristic  style  (2)  —  J  variation  (j) 
—  Start  of  a  turn  (4). 

A  "Tango"  Step "        "      297 

Man's  foot  displaces  woman's  (i)  —  Woman's  foot  displaces 
man's  (2)  —  Each  displaces  the  other's  foot  (j). 

The  "Tango,"  The  Eight  (Diagram) Page    297 

The  "Tango,"  A  Waltz  Turn  (Diagram) "      297 

The  "Tango,"  An  Easy  Step  (Diagram) "      298 

A  North  American  Figure  in  the  "Tango" Facing  Page    298 

Preparation  (i)  —  /^fter  the  twist  (2)  —  Finishing  with  a 
Dip  (3). 
The  "Tango,"  Executed  to  the  Rear  (Diagram)   ....  Page    299 

The  "Tango,"  A  North  American  Figure  (Diagram)    .   .  "      299 

The  "Brazilian  Maxixe,"  First  Figure  (Diagram)    ...  "      300 

The  "Brazilian  Maxixe,"  Third  Figure  (Diagram)  ...  "      301 

The  "Brazilian  Maxixe" Facing  Page    302 

Characteristic  style  (i)  —  A  dip  (2)  —  Variations  (5,  4). 

The  "Brazilian  Maxixe" "         "      303 

Preparation  for  a  turn  (i)  —  Finish  of  a  turn  (2)  —  Char- 
acteristic style  (5)  —  A  dip  (4). 


THE  DANCE 


The  Dance 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   DANCING   OF   ANCIENT    EGYPT   AND    GREECE 

BEFORE  logic,  man  knew  emotion;  before  creed, 
ritual.     With  leap  and  mad  gesture  the  savage 
mimics  his    triumph,  to  the    accompaniment  of 
crude  saltation  performed  by  a  hero-worshipping  tribe. 

Not  by  argument  is  the  coming  storm  propitiated,  but 
by  a  unified  expression  of  tribal  humility.  To  the 
rhythm  of  beaten  drums,  the  tribe,  as  one,  performs  the 
genuflexions  and  prostrations  that  denote  supplication 
and  fear. 

So  on  through  the  gamut  of  simple  emotions — love 
and  hate,  fealty  and  jealousy,  desire  and  achievement — 
primitive  man  expresses  his  mood  in  terms  of  the  dance. 
History  shows  that  dancing  persists  on  a  plane  with 
words,  paint  and  music  as  a  means  of  expression,  how- 
ever far  a  race  may  advance  along  the  road  of  evolu- 
tion; and  that  the  few  exceptions  to  this  rule  are  to  be 
found  among  peoples  who  have  allowed  a  Frankenstein 

3 


4  THE  DANCE 

of  logic  to  suppress,  for  a  time,  their  naturalness  of 
spirit. 

Egyptian  carvings  of  six  thousand  years  ago  record 
the  use  of  the  dance  in  religious  ritual;  and  abundant 
evidence  attests  the  importance  in  which  it  was  held  at 
all  times  through  the  period  of  Egypt's  power.  In 
lines  as  stately  as  the  columns  of  a  temple,  sculptors  have 
traced  choreography's  majestic  poses,  its  orchestral  repe- 
titions and  variations.  As  a  dance  may  be,  the  religious 
dances  of  Egypt  were  a  translation  and  an  equivalent 
of  the  spirit  of  the  Pharaohs'  monumental  architecture ; 
that  they  were  no  less  imposing  than  those  temples  we 
cannot  avoid  believing. 

Plato,  deeply  impressed  by  these  hierarchical  ballets, 
finds  that  their  evolutions  symbolised  the  harmonious 
movements  of  the  stars.  Modern  deduction  carries  the 
astronomical  theme  still  further :  the  central  altar  is  be- 
lieved to  have  represented  the  sun;  the  choral  move- 
ments around  it,  the  movements  of  the  celestial  bodies. 
Apis,  the  sacred  black  bull,  was  honoured  in  life  by 
dances  of  adoration,  in  death  by  ballets  of  mourning. 

Either  dancing  was  attributed  to  the  divinities  (ac- 
cording to  a  Christian  saint  of  later  centuries,  it  is  the 
practice  of  angels)  or  some  of  the  divinities  were  repre- 
sented by  dancers  in  the  religious  ballets.  A  carving  in 
the  Metropolitan  Museum  of  New  York  shows  Anubis 
and  Horus  kneeling,  their  arms  completing  a  pose  that 
is  seen  to  this  day  in  the  dances  of  Spain. 

Important  as  was  the  dancing  of  Egypt  as  the  root 
from  which  grows  the  choreography  of  all  the  Occident 
— and  of  India  too,  for  anything  known  to  the  contrary 
— the  carvings  reveal  little  of  its  philosophy  or  symbol- 
ism.    But  the  history  of  other  peoples  at  once  demon- 


Courtesy  of  The  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art,  Nnv  York 

Tanagra  Figures 


To  face  page  4 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE      5 

strates  its  force  as  example,  at  least,  if  not  as  teacher  of 
actual  technique.  The  Hebrews  of  very  early  days  gave 
dancing  a  high  place  in  the  ceremony  of  worship. 
Moses,  after  the  crossing  of  the  Red  Sea,  bade  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel  dance.  David  danced  before  the  Ark  of 
the  Covenant. 

Numerous  Biblical  allusions  show  that  dancing  was 
held  in  high  respect  among  early  leaders  of  thought. 
"Praise  the  Lord  .  .  .  praise  Him  with  timbrel  and  the 
dance,"  is  commanded.  With  dancing  the  Maccabees 
celebrated  that  supremely  solemn  event,  the  restoration 
of  the  Temple.  To  honour  the  slayer  of  Goliath,  the 
women  came  out  from  all  the  cities  of  Israel,  "singing 
and  dancing  .  .  .  with  tabrets,  with  joy  and  with  in- 
struments of  musick."  Relative  to  the  capture  of  wives 
the  sons  of  Benjamin  were  told:  ".  .  .  if  the  daugh- 
ters of  Shiloh  come  out  to  dance  in  dances,  then  come 
ye  out  of  the  vineyards,  and  catch  you  every  man  his 
wife  .  .  .  and  the  children  of  Benjamin  did  so,  and 
took  them  wives,  according  to  their  number,  of  them 
that  danced,  whom  they  caught"  (Judges  21 :2i  and  2^). 
"Thou  shalt  again  be  adorned  with  thy  tabrets,  and 
shalt  go  forth  in  the  dances  of  them  that  make  merry" 
(Jeremiah  31:4).  "Then  shall  the  virgin  rejoice  in 
the  dance"  (Jeremiah  31:13).  "And  David  danced 
before  the  Lord  with  all  his  might"  (2  Samuel  6:14). 
In  the  solemn  chapter  of  Matthew  narrating  the  be- 
heading of  John  the  Baptist  we  read:  "But  when  Her- 
od's birthday  was  kept,  the  daughter  of  Herodias  danced 
before  them,  and  pleased  Herod.  Whereupon  he 
promised  with  an  oath  to  give  her  whatever  she  would 
ask." 

Perhaps  with  an  idea  of  forestalling  discussion  of 


6  THE  DANCE 

the  art's  antiquity,  one  of  the  early  writers  eliminates 
argument  by  a  simple  stroke  of  the  pen.  **The  stars 
conform  to  laws  of  co-ordinated  movement.  'Co-ordi- 
nated movement*  is  the  definition  of  dancing,  which 
therefore  is  older  than  humanity."  Taking  this  at  its 
face  value,  human  institutions  are  thrown  together  into 
one  period,  in  which  differences  of  a  thousand  years  are 
as  nothing. 

In  turning  to  Greece,  years  need  lend  no  aid  to  make 
the  subject  attractive.  In  that  little  world  of  thought 
we  find  choreography  luxuriant,  perhaps,  as  it  never  has 
been  since;  protected  by  priesthood  and  state,  practised 
by  rich  and  poor,  philosopher  and  buffoon.  Great 
mimetic  ballets  memorialised  great  events ;  simple  rustic 
dances  celebrated  the  gathering  of  the  crops  and  the 
coming  of  the  flowers.  Priestesses  performed  the 
sacred  numbers,  the  origins  of  which  tradition  attrib- 
uted to  Olympian  gods;  eccentric  comedy  teams  enliv- 
ened the  streets  of  Athens;  gilded  youth  held  dancing 
an  elegant  accomplishment.  Philosophers  taught  it  to 
pupils  for  its  effect  on  body  and  mind;  it  was  a  means 
of  giving  soldiers  carriage,  agility  and  health,  and  cul- 
tivating esprit  de  corps.  To  the  development  of  dancing 
were  turned  the  Greek  ideals  of  beauty,  which  in  their 
turn  undoubtedly  received  a  mighty  and  constant  uplift 
from  the  beauty  of  harmonised  movements  of  healthy 
bodies.  Technique  has  evolved  new  things  since  the 
days  of  classic  Greece ;  scenery,  music  and  costume  have 
created  effects  undreamed  of  in  the  early  times.  But 
notwithstanding  the  lack  of  incidental  factors — and  one 
questions  if  any  such  lack  were  not  cancelled  by  the 
gain  through  simplicity — the  wide-spread  practice  of 
good  dancing,  the  greatness  and  frequency  of  munici- 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE      7 

pal  ballets,  the  variety  of  emotional  and  aesthetic  mo- 
tives that  dancing  was  made  to  express,  all  combine  to 
give  Greece  a  rank  never  surpassed  as  a  dancing  nation. 

The  man-made  attributes  of  man's  gods  are  a  synopsis 
of  man's  important  thoughts.  Cybele,  mother  of  the 
gods  and  friend  of  mankind,  taught  dancing  to  the  cory- 
bantes  as  a  fitting  gift  to  be  passed  along  to  her  mortal 
foster-children.  Apollo,  speaking  through  the  mouths 
of  priestesses,  dictated  further  choreographic  laws. 
Orpheus  journeyed  to  Egypt  to  study  its  dances,  that 
he  might  add  to  the  scope  of  the  Hellenic  steps  and 
movements.  One  of  the  nine  muses  was  devoted  to  the 
fostering  of  this  particular  art.  All  of  which  shows  a 
profound  belief  in  the  Greek  mind  that  dancing  was 
worthy  of  a  great  deal  of  divine  attention.  Certainly 
no  subsequent  civilisation  has  been  so  well  qualified  to 
judge  the  importance  of  dancing,  for  none  has  experi- 
mented so  completely  in  the  eflfect  of  rhythmic  exercise 
on  the  body  and  mind  of  a  nation. 

Classic  sculpture  no  more  than  suggests  the  impor- 
tance of  dancing  in  Greek  life.  An  assemblage  of  a  few 
Greek  thinkers'  observations  on  the  subject  furnishes 
an  idea  of  the  value  they  gave  it  as  a  factor  in  education. 
Plato,  for  instance,  specifies  it  among  the  necessities  for 
the  ideal  republic,  "for  the  acquisition  of  noble,  har- 
monious, and  graceful  attitudes."  Socrates  urged  it 
upon  his  pupils.  Physicians  of  the  time  of  Aristophanes 
prescribed  its  rhythmic  exercise  for  many  ailments. 
Lycurgus  gave  it  an  important  place  in  the  training 
of  youth,  military  and  otherwise.  Among  the  special 
dances  whose  teaching  he  decreed,  was  one,  the  Hormos, 
that  was  traditionally  performed  without  clothing. 
Plutarch  tells  of  a  protest  against  the  nudity  of  the 


8  THE  DANCE 

women.  The  Law-giver  of  Athens  replied:  "I  wish 
them  [the  women]  to  perform  the  same  exercises  as 
men,  that  they  may  equal  men  in  strength,  health,  vir- 
tue and  generosity  of  soul,  and  that  they  may  learn  to 
despise  the  opinion  of  the  vulgar." 

Of  great  men's  dancing  in  public  there  are  instances- 


Fsou  A  Fourth  Century  Vase. 
In  the  Louvre. 

in  abundance.  The  very  method  of  choosing  the  lead- 
ers of  great  civic  choreographic  spectacles  insured  the 
association  of  people  of  consequence,  for  these  leaders 
were  always  selected  from  the  highest  rank  of  citizens. 
Epaminondas,  Antiochus,  and  Ptolemseus  are  variously 
mentioned  for  their  skill  in  dancing,  as  well  as  their 
prominence  in  national  affairs.  Sophocles  danced 
around  the  trophies  of  the  battle  of  Salamis.  ^schylus 
and  Aristophanes  danced  in  various  performances  of 
their  own  plays.  And  Socrates,  one  of  the  very  fathers 
of  human  reasoning,  danced  among  friends  after  din- 
ner. Aristides  danced  at  a  banquet  given  by  Dionysius 
of  Syracuse.  Anacreon,  in  his  odes,  declares  that  he 
is  always  ready  to  dance. 

Professional  dancers  enjoyed  high  prestige.  Philip 
of  Macedon  had  one  as  a  wife ;  the  mother  of  Nicomedes, 
king  of  Bithynia,  was  a  dancer.     Aristodemus,  a  famous 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE 


dancer  of  Athens,  at  one  time  was  sent  to  the  court  of 
Philip  of  Macedon  as  ambassador. 

This  chapter  must  not  be  understood  as  trying  to  rep- 
resent that  Athenian  civil  life  was  given  over  to  an 
endless  round  of  choreographic  celebration ;  nor  have  the 
later  chapters  concerning  the  courts  of  the  Louis  any 
intent  to  picture  a  set  of  beings  whose  minds  were  de- 
voted to  dancing  to  the  exclusion  of  all  else.  What  is 
intended,  however,  is  to  call  attention  to  an  important 
omission  in  the  writings  of  the  general  historian,  who 
never  has  given  dancing  its  due  proportion  of  consid- 
eration as  a  force  in  those  and  other  high  civilisations. 
Literature  and  the  graphic  arts  followed  the  coming  of 
civilisation,  and  are  among  its  results;  they  have  been 
analysed  with  all  degrees  of  profundity.  The  dance  is, 
undoubtedly,  among  the  causes  of  Greek  vigour  of  mind 


Greek    Comedy   DANaNG. 

and  body ;  but  it  is  of  far  less  concern  to  the  average  his- 
torical writer  than  any  disputed  date.  The  microsco- 
pist  charting  the  pores  of  the  skin  knows  nothing  of  the 
beauty  of  the  figure.  And  the  grammarian's  myopic 
search  for  eccentricities  of  verb-forms  atrophies  his 
ability  to  perceive  the  qualities  of  literature,  until  finally 
he  will  try  to  convince  his  listeners  that  literary  quality 
is,  after  all,  a  subject  for  the  attention  of  smaller  minds. 
Greek  philosophy,  mathematics,  political  and  military 


10 


THE  DANCE 


science  are  part  of  the  structure  of  Occidental  society — 
a  good  and  useful  part.  Had  the  importance  of  the 
dance  been  appreciated — had  proper  authority  recog- 
nised its  inherent  part  in  the  Greek  social  organism 
— who  can  say  how  much  dulness,  ugliness  and  sickli- 
ness of  body  and  spirit  the  world  might  have  escaped? 


A  B  .  C 

Statuettes. 
From   (A)    Tanagra;    (B)    Myrina — now  in   the  Louvre;    (C)    Tanagra 

(disputed). 

Folk-dancing  has  been  introduced  into  the  public  schools 
of  certain  cities;  a  movement  too  new  to  be  judged. 
Let  it  be  neither  praised  nor  censured  until  results  have 
had  time  to  assert  themselves.  If  at  the  end  of  ten 
years  the  children  who  have  danced  their  quota  of  min- 
utes per  day  do  not  excel  in  freedom  from  nervous  ab- 
normalities, the  children  who  have  not  danced;  if  they 
fail  to  manifest  a  better  co-ordination  of  mind  and  body, 
and  a  superior  power  of  receiving  and  acting  upon  sug- 
gestion— then  let  public  school  dancing  be  abolished  as 
of  no  value  beyond  amusement  and  exercise. 

Of  recent  years  a  good  deal  of  ingenuity  has  gone  into 
study  of  the  dances  of  classic  Greece,  with  view  to 
their  re-creation.  From  paintings  on  vases,  bas-reliefs 
and  the  Tanagra  statuettes  has  been  gathered  a  general 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE     ii 

idea  of  the  character  of  Greek  movement.  The  results 
have  been  pleasing,  and  in  Miss  Duncan's  case  radical, 
as  an  influence  on  contemporary  choreographic  art.  But, 
beautiful  and  descriptive  as  they  are,  the  plastic  repre- 
sentations are  of  scattered  poses  from  dances  not  as  a 
rule  identified.  If,  therefore,  present-day  re-creations 
often  fail  to  show  the  flights  of  cumulative  interest  com- 
mon in  modern  ballet,  Spanish  and  Slavonic  work,  the 
shortcoming  is  due  at  least  in  part  to  the  lack  of  ex- 
plicit records  of  sequences  of  step,  movement  and  pan- 
tomimic symbol.  For  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  the 
dance  composers  of  the  age  of  Pericles  did  not  equal 
their  successors,  even  as  their  contemporaries  in  the 
fields  of  sculpture,  architecture  and  poetry  left  work 
never  yet  excelled. 

Of  the  names  and  motives  of  dances  the  record  seems 
to  be  pretty  complete.  Sacred,  military  and  profane 
are  the  general  categories  into  which  the  very  numer- 
ous Greek  dances  divide  themselves.  The  sacred  group 
falls  into  four  classes :  the  Emmeleia,  the  Hyporchema, 
the  Gymnopcodia,  and  the  Endymatia.  Of  these  the  two 
latter  seem  to  have  been  coloured  by  sentiments  more  or 
less  apart  from  the  purely  religious. 

Of  the  Emmeleia,  Plato  records  that  some  had  the 
character  of  gentleness,  gravity  and  nobility  suitable  to 
the  sentiments  by  which  a  mortal  should  be  permeated 
when  he  invokes  the  gods.  Others  were  of  heroic  or 
tragic  aspect,  emphasising  majesty  and  strength.  A 
characteristic  of  this  group  was  its  performance  without 
accompaniment  of  chorus  or  voice.  The  origin  of  the 
group  is  attributed  to  Orpheus,  as  a  fruit  of  his  mem- 
ories of  Colchis  and  Sais. 

The    Hyporchema,    equally    religious,    were    distin- 


12  THE  DANCE 

guished  by  their  use  of  choral  accompaniment.  In  some 
cases  it  might  be  more  accurate  to  say  that  the  dances 
were  an  accompaniment  to  recited  poetry;  for  in  very 
early  times  the  dances  seem  to  have  been  employed  to 
personify,  or  materialise,  the  abstractions  of  poetic  met- 
aphor. Both  men  and  women  engaged  in  dances  of  this 
group,  and  its  plane  was  of  lofty  dignity.  In  it  were 
the  oldest  dances  of  Greece,  besides  some  composed  by 
the  poet  Pindar. 

The  Gymnopcodia  were  more  or  less  dedicated  to  the 
worship  of  Apollo,  and  were  especially  cultivated  in 
Arcadia.  As  the  name  implies,  the  performers  were 
nude — youths  wearing  chaplets  of  palm.  A  material 
character  seems  to  have  marked  this  group :  Athenaeus 
finds  in  it  points  of  identity  with  the  Anapale,  which  is 
known  to  have  been  a  pantomimic  representation  of  com- 
bat. 

The  Endymatia  crossed  the  border-line  between  the 
sacred  and  profane.  They  were  brightly  costumed 
dances,  and  in  demand  for  general  entertainment.  In 
connection  with  this  group  we  find  the  first  allusion  to 
the  highly  modern  institution  of  dancers'  "private  en- 
gagements"— professionals  aiding  in  the  entertainment 
of  dinner-parties.  The  Greek  and  Roman  custom  of 
seeing  dancers  instead  of  listening  to  after-dinner 
speeches  is  too  well  known  to  justify  more  than  a  men- 
tion. 

These  four  groups  are  the  fundamentals  from  which 
numberless  other  dances  were  derived,  to  be  variously 
dedicated  to  gods,  public  events,  abstract  qualities,  crops, 
and  fighting.  If  no  particular  occasion  ofiFered,  people 
would  dance  for  the  good  reason  that  they  felt  like  it, 
as  Neapolitans  dance  the  Tarantella  to-day.     To  the 


Courtesy  0/  The  Metropolitan  Museum  0/  Art,  New  York 

Greek  Relief  Decorations 


Courtesy  of  The  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art,  New  York 

Greek  Ceramic  Decorations 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE  13 


glory  of  Bacchus  were  the  Dionysia;  the  Iambic  was 
sacred  to  Mars,  the  Caryatis,  a  dance  symboHsing  inno- 
cence, and  danced  nude,  to  Diana.  Hercules,  Theseus, 
the  daughters  of  Jupiter,  Castor  and  Pollux  were  so 
honoured — each  dance  having  its  special  identification  of 
movement,  meaning  or  costume. 

Semirelated  to  the  religious  group  were  the  dances 


Statuettes. 
From  (A)   Myrina;    (B)   Tanagra;   (C)   Myrina. 

of  mourning.  Unlike  certain  modern  dances  of  the 
same  intent,  these  are  not  recorded  as  having  been 
primarily  an  individual's  pantomimic  dance  representing 
qualities  of  the  deceased,  or  illustrating  his  relations 
during  life  with  friends  and  family ;  although  there  was 
a  time  in  which  the  cortege  was  headed  by  an  individual 
dressed  in  the  clothes  of  the  deceased,  imitating  his  vir- 
tues and  sometimes  also  his  failings.  Regularly,  how- 
ever, the  dancing  was  strictly  ritualistic,  forming  a 
solemn  decorative  concomitant  of  the  vocal  and  instru- 
mental music.  (At  what  point  in  his  evolution  did  the 
Occidental  determine  that  his  ritualistic  expressions 
should  be  directed  almost  exclusively  to  the  ear?)  A 
corps  of  fifteen  girls  danced  before  the  funeral  car,  which 
was  surrounded  by  a  band  of  youths.     Naturally  the 


14  THE  DANCE 

brilliancy  of  the  function  was  more  or  less  proportionate 
to  the  station  and  estate  of  the  departed. 

On  dances  of  war  the  Greeks  relied  as  an  important 
element  in  the  soldier's  training.  In  their  pantomime 
the  veteran  lived  over  the  moments  of  combat,  while  his 
children  and  even  his  wife  caught  anew  the  spirit  of 
Hellenic  arms. 

Plutarch  wrote:  "The  military  dance  was  an  inde- 
finable stimulus  which  inflamed  courage  and  gave 
strength  to  persevere  in  the  paths  of  honour  and  valour." 
It  is  still  known  that  a  body  of  men  moving  in  step  feel 
fatigue  distinctly  less  than  when  walking  out  of  step. 
One  of  the  things  learned  by  the  long-distance  runner, 
the  wood-cutter,  or  any  other  performer  of  continued 
work,  is  the  importance  of  establishing  as  quickly  as 
possible  a  regular  rhythmic  relation  between  the  sepa- 
rate parts  of  a  complete  movement,  including  the  intake 
and  expulsion  of  breath  among  those  parts.  Such  a 
rhythm  once  established,  movement  succeeds  movement 
with  something  like  momentum;  the  several  steps,  or 
blows  of  the  axe,  do  not  each  require  a  separate  effort 
of  the  will.  Something  of  this  was  Plutarch's  "indefin- 
able stimulus." 

Apart  from  efficiency  of  the  individual,  experience 
has  shown  that  a  command  moving  "in  time"  is  unified 
in  the  fullest  sense,  with  each  soldier  more  or  less  per- 
fectly proof  against  any  impulse  at  variance  with  the 
esprit  de  corps.  To  weld  a  number  of  men  ever  more 
closely  into  the  condition  of  a  military  unit  is  one  of  the 
purposes  of  drill.  Drill  is  in  great  part  a  matter  of 
keeping  in  step.  The  Greeks  carried  to  a  high  pitch 
the  unification  of  a  military  body  in  respect  to  all  the 
movements  of  attack  and  defence.     History  repeatedly 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE  15 

records  the  demoralisation  of  the  enemy,  carried  by  the 
assaults  of  the  perfectly  organised  Greek  fighting  bod- 
ies. But  undoubtedly  an  important  value  of  the  study 
for  perfection  of  corps  unity  was  the  disciplinary  eifect 
on  the  Greek  soldier  himself. 

As  a  means  toward  such  perfection,  Greek  law  pre- 
scribed dancing  for  the  soldier.  An  obvious  benefit 
from  his  practice  of  the  art  was  the  advantage  due  to 
mere  muscular  exercise;  and  that  in  itself  is  no  small 
thing  when  the  dance  is  performed  in  full  armour,  as  the 
Greek  soldier  performed  it. 

Authorities  classify  the  military  dances  as  Pyrrhic 
and  Memphitic;  but  the  division  seems  hardly  essential, 
since  the  meagre  technical  descriptions  draw  no  distinct 
line  between  the  two  groups.  In  both,  performers 
carried  sword  or  spear  and  shield.  The  movements 
brought  in  the  manoeuvres  of  individual  combat — cutting 
and  thrusting,  parrying,  dodging  and  stooping.  That 
they  might  be  carried  to  a  degree  of  realism  is  indicated 
in  a  description  by  Xenophon.  At  the  end  of  a  mimic 
combat  between  two  Thracians,  at  the  conclusion  of 
which  the  victor  sang  a  song  of  victory  and  possessed 
himself  of  the  vanquished  man's  weapons,  the  specta- 
tors cried  out  with  emotion,  believing  that  the  fallen 
man  was  killed. 

Of  the  words  "Pyrrhic"  and  "Memphitic,"  the  latter 
seems  to  connote  a  performance  less  insistent  on  the  ele- 
ment of  combat.  To  Minerva  is  credited  the  origin  of 
the  Memphitic  group,  legend  having  it  that  the  goddess 
of  wisdom  composed  these  dances  to  celebrate  the  defeat 
of  the  Titans.  The  usual  accompaniment  was  the  flute, 
according  with  the  idea  of  comparative  tranquillity. 
Both  styles  were  danced  by  women;  special  fame  for 


i6  THE  DANCE 

proficiency  was  given  to  the  vigorous  daughters  of 
Sparta,  Argos,  and  Arcadia,  and  to  the  Amazons. 

Pantomime  was  important  in  most  Greek  dances. 
Greek  writers  interested  themselves  in  an  effort  to  trace 
pantomime  to  its  origin;  but  they  were  not  very  suc- 
cessful, because  they  went  no  further  back  than  the  demi- 
gods. Whereas  sign-talk,  if  inference  may  be  drawn 
from  savages,  antedates  spoken  language — which  is  be- 
side the  point  of  the  present  sketch. 

Pantomime  artists  of  Greece  were  of  various  ranks, 
according  to  the  plane  of  thought  represented  in  their 
work.  Ethologues  represented  moralities,  or  virMeaes't 
they  "depicted  the  emotions  and  the  conduct  of  man  so 
faithfully,  that  their  art  served  as  a  rigorous  censorship 
and  taught  useful  lessons,"  writes  De  I'Aulnaye,  in  De 
la  Saltation  Thedtrale.  They  were  not  only  artists,  but 
philosophers  of  a  moral  standard  of  the  utmost  height 
and  purity :  the  poems  of  one  of  them,  Sophron  of  Syra- 
cuse, were  among  the  writings  kept  at  hand  by  Plato 
during  his  last  hours.  QvfiekLKot,  were  pantomimists  of 
lesser  rank,  whose  work  was  principally  comedy  of  a 
farcical  nature — though  the  word  seems  to  have  the 
primitive  meaning  of  "chorister." 

Rich  in  scope  was  the  Greek  stage;  and,  until  later 
days,  generally  high  in  plane.  For  its  effects  it  drew 
upon  poetry,  music,  dancing,  grouping  and  posing.  Lit- 
tle is  known  of  the  music;  re-creations  of  it  (how  au- 
thoritative the  authors  do  not  know)  are  simple  and 
melodious,  with  no  attempt  at  grandeur.  But  in  the 
other  departments,  what  veritable  gods  in  collaboration ! 
Euripides,  Aristophanes,  and  ^schylus  are  of  those  who 
supplied  texts.  Sculptors  whose  works  are  no  less  per- 
ishable gave  their  knowledge  to  grouping  and  posing. 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE  17 

Of  the  merit  of  the  performers  there  is  no  adequate 
record,  for  lack,  among  other  things,  of  an  explicit 
choreographic  terminology.  (This  deficiency  was  first 
made  up  in  the  French  language,  after  the  organisation 
of  the  National  Academy  of  Music  and  Dancing,  in  the 
seventeenth  century. )  What  is  known,  however,  is  that 
dancing  was  considered  a  proper  medium  of  expression 
of  great  motives,  and  that  great-minded  artists  chose 


Dance  of  Nymphs. 
From  an  antique  frieze  in  the  Louvre. 

it  as  a  career;  not  in  spite  of  a  public  condescension  to 
it,  but  with  the  support  of  a  profound  public  respect. 

Accuracy  of  rhythm  is  of  an  importance  obvious  to 
grades  of  intelligence  far  below  that  of  the  Greeks. 
They  laid  stress  no  less  on  what  may  be  called  rhythmic 
quality  than  on  mere  emphasis  of  tempo.  A  time- 
marker  was  provided  with  an  assortment  of  sandals 
soled  with  metal  or  wood  of  various  thicknesses;  by 
means  of  these  he  produced  sounds  consistent  with  the 
changing  sentiments  of  the  action.  (Compare  the 
modes  of  getting  varied  sounds  from  castanets,  in  chap- 
ter on  Spanish  dancing.)  Castanets,  too,  were  used  in 
Greece,  essentially  the  same  as  those  of  Spain  to-day; 
also  flat  sticks  in  pairs,  like  clappers,  but  which  unlike 


i8  THE  DANCE 

clappers  were  gripped  between  the  thumb  and  fingers. 
Little  cymbals  on  the  dancers'  hands  sometimes  added 
their  voice,  and  the  tambourine  was  popular.  The  va- 
riety of  these  time-marking  instruments  indicates  knowl- 
edge of  the  many  effects  attainable  by  tempo  alone.  In- 
deed a  reading  of  the  poets  emphasises  this:  their 
selection  of  words  for  sound  as  well  as  meaning  will 
force  even  a  mediocre  reader  into  an  observance  of  the 
author's  intention  of  ritard  and  accelerando,  legato  and 
staccato,  emphasis  and  climax.  Associated  with  ballet 
production,  as  the  ablest  poets  were,  it  may  be  taken  as 
assured  that  the  devices  of  tempo  were  made  familiar 
to  dancers — unless  it  was  the  dance  that  taught  the  metre 
to  the  poets. 

Masks  were  worn  to  identify  character ;  but  their  pri- 
mary function  appears  to  have  been  the  concealment  of 
a  sound-magnifying  device  to  carry  the  voice  through 
the  great  spaces  of  out-door  theatres.  Women's  parts 
in  the  ballets  were  played  by  men  at  least  fre- 
quently; whether  the  reverse  was  a  conspicuous  excep- 
tion is  also  uncertain.  Both  usages  were  destined  to 
survive  in  pantomime  through  centuries.  Objection  to 
the  mask  always  was  overruled  by  authority ;  the  Greek 
play  was  such  an  irreproachable  organism  that  deviation 
from  its  accepted  formulas  was  deemed  an  impious  and 
dangerous  heresy.  In  the  eighteenth  century  a  pre- 
mier danseur's  absence  put  a  French  ballet  director  tem- 
porarily at  the  mercy  of  the  second  dancer,  a  young 
radical,  who  refused  to  "go  on"  wearing  a  mask.*  Not 
until  then  was  the  mask  tradition  disturbed. 

Though  exact  data  of  the  steps  of  popular  dances  are 
lacking,  literary  allusions  record  dance  names  and  gen- 
eral character  in  great  number.     A  complete  catalogue 

*  See  also  page  loi. 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE  19 

of  them  would  offer  little  inspiration  to  the  lay  student 
or  the  professional;  no  more  than  a  hint  of  their  broad 
scope  is  necessary.  Dances  suggesting  the  life  of  ani- 
mals were  plentiful.  Some  were  underlaid  with  a  sym- 
bolic significance,  as  that  of  the  crane,  the  bird's  con- 
fused wanderings  representing  the  efforts  of  Theseus 
to  find  his  way  out  of  the  labyrinth,  the  legend  in  its 
turn  probably  having  some  relation  to  life  and  the  tricks 
it  plays  on  its  possessors.  The  fox  was  a  favourite  sub- 
ject, and  the  lion  was  not  overlooked.  Though  the  au- 
thor of  Chanticler  may  have  been  the  first  to  avail  him- 
self of  the  grotesqueries  of  poultry,  the  Greeks  danced 
owls  and  vultures.  Similar  to  the  Oriental  Danse  dii 
Ventre  was  the  Kolia,  probably  brought  across  from 
Egypt.  Another  suggestion  of  North  Africa  was 
known  in  Greek  language  as  the  Dance  of  Spilled  Meal 
— what  more  reasonable  than  to  infer  that  it  was  the 
same  in  scheme  as  the  Flour  Dance  of  present-day  Al- 
geria? The  flour  or  meal  that  identifies  this  perform- 
ance is  spread  on  the  floor,  and  a  more  or  less  involved 
design  traced  in  it.  What  follows  is  interesting  chiefly 
as  a  test  of  a  species  of  virtuosity:  the  dancer's  object 
is,  in  her  successive  turns  across  and  about  the  design, 
to  plant  her  feet  always  within  the  same  spaces,  the 
loose  meal  exposing  any  failure.  Rapidity  of  tempo 
and  involution  of  step  may  raise  the  difficulties  to  a  point 
beyond  the  reach  of  any  but  the  most  skilful.  The  chil- 
dren's game  of  Hop-scotch  is  a  degenerated  kinsman  of 
the  dance  in  and  over  a  design. 

There  were  dances  of  satyrs  and  goats,  nymphs,  mon- 
keys, gods  and  goddesses,  flowers,  grapes  and  the  wine- 
press. Combat  was  rendered  into  poetry  in  the  Spear 
Dance,  the  Fight  with  the  Shadow  (o-icta/zaxta),  the  fights 


20  THE  DANCE 

with  shields,  with  swords.  There  were  "rounds,"  per- 
formed by  an  indefinite  number  of  people  joining  hands 
in  a  ring;  traces  of  these  are  said  to  survive  as  peas- 
ant dances  of  the  Greece  of  to-day.  There  were  solos, 
pas  de  deux  and  pas  de  quatre.  Pythagoras  made  a 
period  of  dancing  a  part  of  the  daily  routine  of  his  pu- 
pils, Hymeneia  were  danced  to  help  celebrate  a  well- 
conducted  wedding.  Prayers,  sacrifices  and  funerals, 
as  stated  before,  were  incomplete  without  their  several 
and  special  dances. 

Movement  no  less  than  speech  is  a  vehicle  for  satire, 
wit,  sensuality  and  indecency.  Theophrastus,  with  the 
intent  of  showing  the  degree  of  shamelessness  to  which 
erring  humanity  may  fall,  tells  of  a  man  who  performed 
a  dance  called  the  Cordax  without  the  excuse  of  being 
drunk  at  the  time  of  the  deed.  Covering  a  wide  range 
of  light  motives  was  the  Sikinnis,  the  word  being  applied 
both  to  a  certain  dance  and  to  a  form  of  satirical  mimo- 
drama.  In  the  latter  sense  it  burlesqued  the  politics, 
philosophy  and  drama  of  the  day.  As  all  peoples  divide 
themselves  into  masses  and  classes  on  lines  of  taste  as 
well  as  of  money,  so  also  eventually  the  Athenians.  In 
the  hands  of  the  Athens  rabble — catered  to  perhaps  by 
ancestors  of  certain  twentieth-century  managers — the 
Sikinnis,  as  a  satire,  fell  into  the  slough  of  vulgarity. 

As  a  dance  it  may  be  thought  of  as  a  favourite  of  that 
Alcibiades  type  of  youth  in  whom  education  has  not  de- 
pressed Arcadian  frivolity.  How  such  a  one  vexed  the 
solemnity  of  a  court  is  the  subject  of  an  anecdote  com- 
piled by  Herodotus.  Clisthenes,  king  of  Sicyon,  in  or- 
der to  marry  his  daughter  to  the  greatest  advantage, 
decided  to  settle  the  selection  of  her  husband  by  com- 
petition.    The  invitation  met  with  due  interest  on  the 


Courtesy  of  The  Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art,  New  York 

Tanagra  Figures 


To  face  page  %o 


ANCIENT  EGYPT  AND  GREECE    21 

part  of  the  rich  and  the  great.  Suitors  came  from  far 
and  near,  among  them  two  from  Athens.  An  ominous 
circumstance,  for  "Attic  salt"  was  out  of  the  same  barrel 
as  the  ''sal  de  Andalucia"  of  to-day ;  both  have  the  record 
of  becoming  operative  immediately  on  exposure  to  any 
air  of  oversolemnity. 

After  days  of  regal  festivity,  Clisthenes  dedicated  a 
hecatomb  to  the  gods,  gave  a  final  banquet,  and  an- 
nounced that  the  suitor-selecting  competition  would  be 
along  the  lines  of  music  and  poetry.  When  it  came  to 
the  turn  of  Hippoclides,  one  of  the  two  Athenians,  he 
asked  that  a  table  be  brought  in.  On  this  he  mounted, 
stood  on  his  hands,  and  traced  the  figures  of  a  Sikinnis 
in  the  air  with  his  feet! 

Until  the  king's  temper  was  quite  gone,  the  perform- 
ance was  received  in  silence.  Herodotus  supposed  that 
Hippoclides  interpreted  the  silence  as  encouragement; 
but  Herodotus  very  clearly  did  not  know  that  kind  of 
boy.  The  polished  though  inverted  youth  on  the  table 
was  estimating  the  horror  among  his  worthy  spectators, 
and  luxuriating. 

Greece,  with  her  fine  simplicity  of  thought,  furnished 
the  pattern  on  which  was  cut  the  civilisation  of  early 
Rome;  Greek  art,  the  concrete  expression  of  her  lofty 
thought,  furnished  Rome  a  model.  Which  model  Rome 
followed  until  loot  and  tribute  provided  her  with  means 
to  express  the  taste  that  was  her  own. 


Greek  Comedy  DANaNc. 


CHAPTER  II 

DANCING   IN    ROME 

AN  art  that  achieves  beauty  by  means  of  the  grace 
of  simple  Hnes,  elegance  of  proportion  and  other 
simple  resources  of  composition,  is  the  art  of  a 
vigorous  nation.  Such  an  art  scorns  florid  treatment, 
surface  realism,  triviality;  and  such  an  art  was  that  of 
early  Rome.  It  had  that  something  clumsily  called 
semiasceticism,  that  attaches  to  dignity. 

A  national  art  quality  exists,  as  is  axiomatic,  upon  a 
basis  and  by  virtue  of  a  corresponding  public  state  of 
mind;  each  influencing  the  other,  but  the  public  state 
of  mind  being  the  force  that  shapes  the  art,  rather  than 
the  reverse.  The  spirit  of  simplicity  dominated  Greece 
through  many  centuries  of  her  grandeur.  In  Rome  it 
endured  until  Rome  grew  rich.  Its  coexistence  in  the 
case  of  the  two  peoples  was  no  more  than  a  coincidence ; 
they  arrived  at  their  common  simplicity  through  wholly 
different  processes. 

In  Greece,  beauty  was  understood.  Action  and 
adornment  were  restrained  because  their  value  was 
found  to  be  multiplied  by  sparing  use ;  because,  too,  any 
excess  of  them  detracted  from  the  great  qualities  of  line 
and  proportion.  In  Greece,  moreover,  beauty  disso- 
ciated from  subject  or  sentiment  could  always  find  an 
appreciative  reception;  the  Hellenic  mind  loved  beauty 
for  its  own  sake.  And  that  is  the  cause  of  the  reserve 
that  governs  the  best  Greek  art. 

Early  Rome,  too,  instilled  into  her  children  the  spirit 

22 


DANCING  IN  ROME  23 

of  simplicity.  Not,  however,  with  any  understanding 
of  the  relation  of  simplicity  to  beauty  and  dignity.  War 
and  lust  for  conquest  made  the  early  Roman  stern ;  and 
simplicity,  attached  to  a  very  real  asceticism,  was  thrust 
upon  him  by  the  uncompromising  hand  of  poverty. 
But,  after  a  few  centuries  of  fattening  on  loot  and  trib- 
ute, what  of  Rome?  Stupidity,  degeneracy  and  vul- 
garity. 

Loot  and  tribute !  In  respect  to  riches  both  material 
and  mental,  other  peoples'  contributions  to  Rome's  des- 
tiny were  of  a  degree  of  importance  sometimes  under- 
rated. Her  monumental  physical  structure  was  built 
from  taxes  gathered  by  the  mailed  hand.  In  respect  to 
her  thought,  expressed  in  essays,  poems,  orations,  let- 
ters, commentaries  or  whatsoever  other  form,  the  ex- 
tent of  other  nations'  contribution  to  Rome's  apparent 
originality  is,  at  first  glance,  less  evident.  Upon  Greek 
foundations  of  narrative  structure,  metre,  and  form  in 
general,  Roman  writings  are  built,  Romanised  though 
they  be  in  subject-matter — but  Rome's  sterility  of  inven- 
tion in  that  field  is  suited  rather  to  the  discussion  of  lit- 
erary men  than  of  dance-lovers. 

But  sculpture  is  pertinent.  The  first  so-called  Ro- 
man art  was  accomplished  by  carving  Roman  faces 
upon  thickened  figures  in  Greek  poses,  executing  them 
in  Greek  technique  of  modelling,  and  naming  them  Ro- 
man gods  and  senators.  Later  the  Greek  simplicity  of 
modelling  was  discarded;  to  replace  it  there  was 
achieved  an  ostentatious  mediocrity.  The  Pompeian 
frescoes?  The  good  ones  were  painted  by  Greeks, 
brought  across  for  the  purpose.  And  the  vivacious  lit- 
tle statues  found  in  Pompeii  express  the  same  artistic- 
ally witty  point  of  view. 


24  THE  DANCE 

In  the  field  of  material  gain  and  convenience  Rome's 
contribution  to  the  world  is  not  to  be  questioned.  But 
water-supply,  paving,  land  laws  and  fortifications  are 
not  related  to  questions  of  taste.  It  is  Roman  taste  of 
which  one  tries  to  form  a  conception,  in  order  to  explain, 
at  least  in  part,  the  disappointing  history  of  dancing  un- 
der the  Caesars.  And  the  mere  direction  of  attention 
to  Rome's  relation  to  the  arts  anticipates  the  story  of 
her  treatment  of  the  dance,  leaving  only  details  to  be 
told. 

First  in  chronology  is  found  the  dancing  symbolical 
of  war.  Then  comes  a  simple  religious  choreography, 
under  the  Salic  priests,  supplementing  the  ritual  of  sac- 
rifice. As  time  goes  on  Greek  dances  are  transplanted, 
with  the  degree  of  success  to  be  expected  among  a  race 
whose  minds,  though  active,  are  pleased  only  by  ma- 
terial power,  gain,  and  ostentation:  by  a  process  of 
atrophy  following  non-appreciation,  the  symbolism  dis- 
appears from  symbolic  dances  and  the  ideal  of  beauty 
from  the  purely  beautiful  dances.  They  became  at  best 
a  display  of  agility  to  amuse  rustics.  More  generally 
they  fell  into  the  service  of  sex  allurement ;  not  the  sug- 
gestive merely,  nor  the  provocative,  but  unbridled  depic- 
tion of  what  should  not  be  revealed  and  of  things  that 
should  not  exist.  This  condition  of  affairs  is  more  than 
hinted  in  works  of  some  of  the  much-read  Latin  writers, 
stated  by  archaeologists,  and  confirmed  by  certain  Pom- 
peian  statues. 

Such  offences,  despite  the  resentment  they  arouse  in 
the  feelings  of  any  naturally  constituted  person,  might 
be  partially  pardoned  by  the  dance-lover  if  they  con- 
tributed anything  to  the  dance.  But  absolutely  they 
do  not.     There  is  latent  drama  and  good  drama  in  sex 


DANCING  IN  ROME  25 

relationships ;  but  not  one  accent  of  its  valid  expression 
can  be  traced  to  dances  of  obscenity.  The  dancer  who 
gives  himself  over  to  obscenity  loses,  every  time,  the 
things  that  made  him  a  dancer :  form,  truth  and  beauty 
of  movement  and  posture.  Where  the  art  of  dancing 
is  appreciated,  artists  avoid  obscene  suggestion.  Where 
it  is  not,  many  are  forced  to  it  in  order  to  make  a 
living.  However,  even  where  the  art  is  appreciated, 
obscenity  furnishes  the  incompetent  a  means  of  pretence 
of  an  artist's  career;  for  obscenity  is  sure  of  a  mixed 
following  of  rabblement,  some  in  rags  and  some  in  vel- 
vet. 

Among  the  Romans  themselves,  actual  participation 
in  the  dance  was  not  popular.  Propriety  forbade  so 
close  an  association  with  an  art  disfigured  and  dirtied, 
the  Roman  reviling  as  unclean  the  image  soiled  by  his 
own  hand.  From  Spain,  Greece  and  Syria  people  were 
brought  to  dance  before  gourmands  and  wasters,  de- 
graded to  the  level  of  their  patrons'  appreciation,  and 
discarded  when  they  had  exhausted  the  scope  of  novel- 
ties suitable  to  the  demand.  Several  centuries  of  Ro- 
man employment  of  dancers  contributed  not  one  step, 
gesture  or  expression  to  the  art ;  the  plastic  and  graphic 
records  show  only  that  which  is  Greek,  or,  on  the  other 
hand  inane,  vulgar,  or  degenerate.  To  the  latter  levels 
sank  the  Ludiones  and  the  Saturnalia;  instituted  as  reli- 
gious celebrations,  ending  as  orgies. 

It  is  vaguely  asserted  that  the  Roman  stage  ampli- 
fied the  Greek  scope  of  pantomime.  And,  notwith- 
standing the  many  reasons  to  distrust  such  a  statement, 
there  were  two  artists  whose  work  may  have  been  of 
a  class  to  justify  it.  They  were  Pylades  and  Bathyllus, 
natives  respectively  of  Silicia  and  Alexandria.     Their 


26  THE  DANCE 

names  live  in  the  impression  they  produced.  Of  the 
character  of  their  work  it  is  impossible  to  learn  any- 
thing explicit ;  "softly  dancing  Bathyllus"  is  as  concrete 
a  reference  as  anything  to  be  found  about  them  in  writ- 
ings of  their  period.  So  it  is  impossible  to  know 
whether  their  great  popularity  was  due  to  merit,  or  to 
ingenious  compliance  with  the  taste  of  their  adopted 
city.  Their  record,  therefore,  must  stand  as  the  story 
of  a  furor,  and  not  necessarily  as  that  of  artistic 
achievement. 

"The  rivalries  of  Pylades  and  Bathyllus  occupied  the 
Romans  as  much  as  the  gravest  affairs  of  state.  Every 
Roman  was  a  Bathyllian  or  a  Pyladian,"  De  I'Aulnaye 
writes.  Vuillier  presents  a  more  graphic  image  of  their 
hold  on  public  attention:  "Their  theatrical  supporters, 
clad  in  different  liveries,  used  to  fight  in  the  streets,  and 
bloody  brawls  were  frequent  throughout  the  city."  For 
the  endless  quarrelling  and  intriguing  between  the  two, 
Pylades  was  once  taken  to  task  by  the  emperor.  The 
answer  was  that  of  a  lofty  artist  or  a  publicity-seeking 
gallery-player,  let  him  decide  who  can:  "Caesar,  it  is 
well  for  you  that  the  people  are  occupied  with  our  quar- 
rels; their  attention  is  in  that  way  diverted  from  your 
actions." 

His  arrogance  directed  itself  impartially  toward  ruler 
and  subject.  Representing  the  madness  of  Hercules — 
he  combined  pantomime  with  dancing — he  shot  arrows 
into  the  audience.  Octavius  being  present  on  such  an 
occasion  refrained  from  any  expression  of  disapproval. 
Was  he  afraid  of  offending  his  people  by  so  much  as 
an  implied  criticism  of  their  favourite?  It  is  not  un- 
likely. When,  unable  to  control  his  impatience  with 
Pylades'  unsettling  influence,  the  emperor  banished  him, 


DANCING  IN  ROME  27 

a  revocation  of  the  decree  was  made  imperative  by  signs 
of  a  popular  insurrection ! 

Not  the  least  of  the  instances  of  Pyladian  insolence 
was  his  interruption  of  the  action  of  a  play  to  scold  his 
audience.  During  a  performance  of  Hercules  some 
one  complained  loudly  that  the  movement  was  extrava- 
gant. Pylades  tore  off  his  mask  and  shouted  back,  "I 
am  representing  a  madman,  you  fools !" 

So  much  for  Pylades  and  Bathyllus.  The  jealous, 
hypertemperamental  artist  who  allows  nothing  to  inter- 
fere with  the  effect  of  the  work  to  which  he  is  conse- 
crated sometimes  falls  into  eccentricities  of  conduct. 
Such  eccentricities  are  copied  to  admiration  by  impu- 
dent incompetents;  and,  contrary  to  P.  T.  Barnum's 
aphorism,  some  of  them  do  "fool  all  the  people  all  the 
time" — especially  if  those  people  themselves  lack  the 
clear  vision  of  simplicity.  Impudence  to  emperors  and 
"shooting  up"  audiences  may  mean  the  utmost  of  either 
sincerity  or  hypocrisy;  choice  of  opinion  is  free.  Cer- 
tainly the  Roman  Empire's  political  intrigues  reveal  a 
profound  and  practical  knowledge  of  the  science  of  pub- 
licity; it  is  an  ancient  profession. 

Artists,  advertisers  or  both,  it  matters  not  at  all,  Py- 
lades and  Bathyllus  failed  to  lift  dancing  from  the  mire. 
The  self-styled  "Eternal  City,"  the  Rome  of  the  Caesars, 
held  it  down  to  her  level  till  her  rotted  hands  could  cling 
no  longer,  yet  treated  it  from  first  to  last  with  scorn. 
Horace,  who  never  allowed  his  wit  to  lead  him  into  dan- 
ger of  offending  any  except  those  without  influence  on 
his  patron  Maecenas,  repeatedly  uses  association  with 
dancers  as  a  synonym  of  disreputability.  Cicero  takes 
a  fling  at  the  art ;  Sallust  attacks  a  lady  for  dancing  with 
a  degree  of  skill  unbecoming  a  virtuous  woman.     With 


28  THE  DANCE 

the  logic  of  a  father  who  locked  up  his  children  so  that 
they  should  not  teach  bad  manners  to  their  parents,  suc- 
cessive emperors  banished  dancers  for  doing  their  work 
according  to  the  taste  of  their  patrons. 

Rome's  inability  to  move  her  imagination  on  a  high 
plane  had  decayed  her,  muscle,  brain  and  bone;  wealth 
slipped  away,  and  all  of  her  that  was  respected  was  her 
remote  past.  In  the  meantime  she  had  imposed  upon 
Europe  her  laws  and  prejudices.  Ears  trained  to  cred- 
ulous attention  were  those  that  heard  her  complaint  of 
the  depravity  of  dancing — a  complaint  given  colour  by 
the  obscenity  of  the  only  secular  dancing  known  to 
Europeans  (outside  of  Spain)  in  the  time  of  the  empire's 
decadence.  With  such  a  combined  force  of  misrepre- 
sentation against  it,  its  restoration  to  a  proper  position 
among  the  great  arts  was  destined  to  be  postponed  a 
thousand  years.  To  this  day  there  persists  to  its  in- 
jury an  echo  of  its  early  defamation. 

Yet  in  the  hour  of  humiliation,  the  dance  gained  the 
respect  of  the  only  earthly  power  that  might  reasonably 
hope,  in  such  an  extremity,  to  save  it  from  a  miserable 
end.  It  was  taken  under  the  protection  of  the  Christian 
Church. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   MIDDLE  AGES   AND   THE   RENAISSANCE 

CHRISTIANITY,  like  the  religions  of  the  He- 
brews of  old  and  the  Greeks,  employed  dancing 
as  an  important  part  of  the  ritual  of  worship. 
During  the  greater  part  of  a  thousand  years,  the  re- 
lation was  not  violently  disturbed;  the  ballet  d' action 
served  in  the  mass  before  the  altar,  and  in  the  "morali- 
ties" that  long  held  favour  as  an  agency  of  spiritual 
instruction.  A  clerical  it  was  who  eventually  composed 
and  staged  the  great  pantomime  which  the  many  au- 
thorities place  as  the  first  modern  ballet. 

European  society,  slowly  emerging  from  the  mire  of 
Roman  manners,  at  length  found  itself  hungry  for 
beauty,  and  capable  of  intelligent  use  of  pearls.  The 
ballet  masque  was  evolved,  and  long  remained  the  su- 
premely brilliant  feature  of  noble  festivities.  Polite 
society,  headed  by  a  king,  was  the  founder  of  the  ballet 
as  it  is  now  known.  But  this  was  in  modern  times. 
The  institution  that  had  conserved  choreography 
through  the  brutishness  of  the  Dark  Ages  was  the 
Church. 

To  one  Father  Menestrier  is  owed  a  compilation  of 
data  about  dancing,  especially  in  relation  to  religion. 
The  good  father  was  a  Jesuit  living  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  his  book  having  been  written  about  1682. 
While  his  own  comments  are  not  always  contributory  to 

exact  knowledge  of  choreographic  detail,  the  facts  he 

29 


30  THE  DANCE 

collected  from  a  great  variety  of  sources  are  important 
and  interesting.  In  the  following  passage  he  definitely 
attaches  dancing  to  the  ritual: 

"Divine  service  was  composed  of  psalms,  hymns  and 
canticles,  because  men  sang  and  danced  the  praises  of 
God,  as  they  read  His  oracles  in  those  extracts  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments  which  we  still  know  under 
the  name  of  Lessons.  The  place  in  which  these  acts 
of  worship  were  offered  to  God  was  called  the  choir, 
just  as  those  portions  of  comedies  and  tragedies  in  which 
dancing  and  singing  combined  to  make  up  the  inter- 
ludes were  called  choruses.  Prelates  were  called  in  the 
Latin  tongue,  Prcesules  a  Prcesiliendo,  because  in  the 
choir  they  took  that  part  in  the  praises  of  God  which 
he  who  led  the  dances,  and  was  called  by  the  Greeks 
Choregus,  took  in  the  public  games." 

The  word  ''prcBsul"  was  the  designation  of  the  chief 
priest  of  the  Salii,  of  early  Rome. 

Quoting  from  St.  Basil's  Epistle  to  St.  Gregory, 
Menestrier  writes  further:  "What  could  be  more 
blessed  than  to  imitate  on  earth  the  rhythm  of  an- 
gels?" {"Quid  itaque  beatius  esse  poterit  quam  in 
terra  tripudia  Angelorum  imitarif")  To  this  he  adds: 
"Philosophers  have  also  existed  who  believed  that  these 
spirits  had  no  other  means  of  communication  among 
themselves  but  signs  and  movements  arranged  after  the 
manner  of  dances.  After  this  we  need  not  be  surprised 
that  Virgil,  in  the  sixth  book  of  the  ^neid,  makes  the 
spirits  dance  in  the  Elysian  fields." 

The  Emperor  Julian  was  reproved  by  St.  Gregory  of 
Nazianzus,  not  for  dancing,  but  for  the  kind  of  dances 
with  which  he  occupied  himself.  "If  you  are  fond  of 
dancing,"  said  the  saint,  "if  your  inclination  leads  you 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    31 

to  these  festivals  that  you  appear  to  love  so  passion- 
ately, dance  as  much  as  you  will;  I  consent.  But  why 
revive  before  our  eyes  the  dissolute  dances  of  the  bar- 
barous Herodias  and  the  Pagans  ?  Rather  perform  the 
dances  of  King  David  before  the  Ark;  dance  to  the 
honour  of  God.  Such  exercises  of  peace  and  piety  are 
worthy  of  an  emperor  and  a  Christian." 

No  more  need  be  quoted  to  explain  the  adoption  of 
dancing  by  the  Church,  and  the  regard  in  which  it  was 
held  by  the  reverend  fathers.  By  some  of  them,  that 
is.  Others  held  it  in  different  estimation.  Odon, 
Bishop  of  Paris,  proscribed  dancing  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. Notwithstanding,  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  see 
in  Spain  the  so-called  Villancicos  de  Navidad  ( a  choreo- 
graphic celebration  of  the  birth  of  Christ)  and  the  dances 
of  the  Seises,  then  as  now  performed  in  the  Cathedral 
of  Seville.  The  latter  were  authorised  in  1439  by  a 
Bull  of  Pope  Eugenius  IV.  Their  discontinuance  was 
ordered  by  Don  Jayme  de  Palafox,  Archbishop  of  Se- 
ville. To  settle  the  matter  the  Seises  were  taken  to 
Rome  and  their  dances  shown  to  the  Pope,  who  as  a 
consequence  approved  their  continuance. 

France,  too,  declined  to  take  the  proscription  seriously, 
as  almost  numberless  documents  and  images  attest.  In 
1584  the  Canon  of  Langres,  by  name  Jehan  Tabourot, 
otherwise  Thoinet  Arbeau,  wrote  (in  his  seventieth 
year)  his  work  called  Orchesographie.  He  refers 
cheerfully  to  opposition:  "We  practice  such  merry- 
making on  days  of  wedding  celebrations,  and  of  the  sol- 
emnities of  the  feasts  of  our  Church,  even  though  the 
reformers  abhor  such  things ;  but  in  this  matter  they  de- 
serve to  be  treated  like  some  hind-quarter  of  goat  put 
into  dough  without  lard."     ("Mais  ils  meriteroient  d'y 


32  THE  DANCE 

etre  traictez  de  quelque  gigot  de  bouc  mis  en  paste  sans 
lard.")  Not  an  infelicitous  metaphor,  after  inquiry- 
reveals  that  dough  without  lard  bakes  to  the  hardness 
of  concrete,  so  that  the  aid  of  a  hammer  is  necessary  to 
crack  the  shell.  What  more  satisfying  disposal  of  dis- 
senters from  one's  own  opinions? 

Proofs  of  the  dance's  tenacious  inclination  to  embody 
itself  in  the  worship  of  the  vital  new  religion  are  many. 
Records  of  efforts  to  establish  it  are  mingled  with  those 
of  counter-efforts  to  expel  it ;  on  the  one  side  a  belief  that 
worship  is  an  emotional  expression,  on  the  other  a  lean- 
ing toward  logic.  Whether  religious  uplift  is  a  matter 
of  emotion  or  of  reason  is  a  question  perhaps  not  wholly 
settled  yet.  Certainly  the  mediaeval  writers  recorded  lit- 
tle to  reflect  a  spirit  of  compromise — no  concession  that 
ritual  or  logic  might  advantageously  be  chosen  with  some 
reference  to  the  psychology  of  the  individual.  At  the 
suggestion  of  the  Council  of  Toledo,  a  ritual  rich  in  sacred 
choreography  was  composed  by  Saint  Isidore,  archbishop 
of  Seville  in  the  seventh  century.  Another  century  pro- 
duced two  occurrences  of  choreographic  importance  at 
about  the  same  moment:  from  Pope  Zacharias,  a  pro- 
hibition of  dancing;  from  the  Moorish  invasion,  preser- 
vation of  the  seven  churches  of  Toledo.  Of  the  two 
influences,  the  latter  was  deemed  paramount.  In  the 
seven  churches  a  mass  known  as  the  Mozarabe  was 
established,  continued  in  all  of  them  through  the  gen- 
erations of  Moorish  occupancy  of  the  city,  and  is  still 
celebrated  daily  in  the  cathedral.  In  the  other  six 
churches  it  was  discontinued  toward  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  With  accompaniment  of  the  tam- 
bourine, whose  resonance  Saint  Isidore  characterised  as 
"the  half  of  melody,"  the  service  included  solemn  dan- 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    33 

cing  of  the  style  of  the  Saraband  and  the  Pavane. 
Whether  or  not  the  choreographic  features  are  still  re- 
tained, the  authors  are  unable  to  say. 

Writing  in  1731  a  Discourse  on  Comedy,  Father 
Pierre  le  Brun  contributes  the  information :  "  .  .  .  that 
while  the  preachers  were  saying  their  mass,  buffoons, 
histrions,  players  of  instruments  and  different  other 
farceurs  were  made  to  come ;  this  disorder  is  severely 
forbidden,  as  well  as  dances  and  the  presentation  of 
spectacles  in  the  churches  and  cemeteries.  The  same 
prohibition  is  found  in  the  synodic  statutes  of  the  diocese 
of  Soissons,  printed  in  that  city  in  1561.  Dances  were 
sometimes  performed  before  the  church,  and  there  was 
not  less  objection  made  against  the  practice  at  that 
time.  .  .  .  Meanwhile  it  is  disgracefully  tolerated  in 
some  of  the  country  parishes." 

These  ''spectacles"  were  the  vehicle  that  carried  the 
mimetic  ballet  through  the  Dark  Ages  from  Rome's  li- 
centious theatre  and  banquet  hall  to  the  stately  salon  of 
the  Medici.  Under  the  name  of  "moralities"  they  sur- 
vive to  this  day  in  convents,  though  clipped  as  to  their 
choreographic  wings.  Everyman,  played  a  few  years 
ago  by  Ben  Greet  and  his  company,  was  a  re-creation  of 
some  of  the  elements  of  the  early  morality,  plus  speech 
and  minus  dancing.  Love,  aspiration,  reverence ;  envy, 
fear,  remorse  and  various  other  elemental  abstractions 
that  inhabit  the  human  soul  were  the  source  of  most  of 
the  morality's  characters;  the  dramatic  action  con- 
sisted— usually  if  not  always — in  a  simple  treatment  of 
the  influences  wrought  by  the  varied  forces  on  the  des- 
tiny of  a  man.  The  man,  no  more  and  no  less  than 
the  abstract  qualities,  was  represented  by  an  actor.  Oc- 
currences of  man's  life,  both  earthly  and  subsequent. 


34  THE  DANCE 

were  equally  available  as  dramatic  material.  Apostles, 
angels  and  even  God  were  of  frequent  representation. 

A  start  was  made  in  a  direction  destined  to  lead  to  the 
development  of  scenery.  Whereas  the  Greek  drama  es- 
tablished the  setting  by  means  of  spoken  words  (and  the 
Roman  apparently  made  no  exception  to  the  same  prac- 
tice), the  early  morality  specified  the  setting  by  means 
of  words  or  crude  symbols  marked  on  objects,  the  back 
wall,  and  other  available  surfaces:  "forest,"  "front  of 
house,"  "Heaven,"  "street,"  or  whatever  was  necessary. 
Elaboration  by  degrees  brought  these  primitive  sugges- 
tions up  to  the  point  of  real  scenery,  with  practical  me- 
chanical devices  for  sensational  entrances. 

One  must  infer  that  the  semiconstant  opposition  of 
the  Church  to  these  representations  was  necessitated  by 
occasional  forgetfulness  of  their  sacred  character.  The 
pagan  gods  persistently  lingered  among  the  dramatis 
personce,  undismayed  by  the  fact  that  they  were  dead, 
and  unshamed  by  the  treatment  their  followers  had  ac- 
corded Christianity.  Performers  no  less  than  authors 
were  sometimes  guilty  of  ribaldry  ranging  from  the  friv- 
olous to  the  impious.  "A  canon  playing  entirely  nude 
the  role  of  Christ,  and  a  clerk  representing  Saint  Fran- 
cis in  a  scene  of  seduction,  undressed  in  the  same  man- 
ner, were  not  at  all  spectacles  of  which  the  originators 
of  the  genre  had  dreamed." 

Yet  the  good  clearly  outweighed  the  bad.  And  al- 
though repeatedly  prohibited,  no  mention  is  found  of 
dancing  being  severely  penalised.  Now  at  the  altar  and 
again  at  the  feast  it  serves,  in  whatever  capacity  is  re- 
quired of  it,  until  at  length  it  comes  into  prominent  con- 
nection with  the  strolling  ballet. 

For  the  morality  play — or  mystery,  as  it  is  otherwise 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    35 

known — ^becomes  an  elaborate  affair,  with  casts  and 
mechanical  and  scenic  effects,  on  such  a  scale  that  it  must 
collect  more  coppers  than  one  town  affords,  in  order  to 
recover  the  initial  expense  of  the  production.  On  a 
scale  sufficient  to  make  an  impression  on  its  times  was 
the  spectacle  designed  to  celebrate  the  canonisation  of 
Carlo  Borromeo,  at  Lisbon  in  1 610.  In  the  words  of 
Vuillier:  "A  ship,  bearing  a  statue  of  St.  Carlo,  ad- 
vanced toward  Lisbon,  as  though  to  take  possession  of 
the  soil  of  Portugal,  and  all  the  ships  in  the  harbour 
went  out  to  meet  it.  St.  Anthony  of  Padua  and  St. 
Vincent,  patrons  of  the  town,  received  the  newcomer, 
amid  salvoes  of  artillery  from  forts  and  vessels.  On 
his  disembarkation,  St.  Carlo  Borromeo  was  received 
by  the  clergy  and  carried  in  a  procession  in  which  fig- 
ured four  enormous  chariots.  The  first  represented 
Fame,  the  second  the  city  of  Milan,  the  third  Portugal, 
and  the  fourth  the  Church.  Each  religious  body  and 
each  brotherhood  in  the  procession  carried  its  patron 
saint  upon  a  richly  decorated  litter. 

"The  statue  of  St.  Carlo  Borromeo  was  enriched  with 
jewels  of  enormous  value,  and  each  saint  was  decorated 
with  rich  ornaments.  It  is  estimated  that  the  value  of 
the  jewelry  that  bedecked  these  images  was  not  less  than 
four  millions  of  francs  (£160,000). 

"Between  each  chariot,  bands  of  dancers  enacted 
various  scenes.  In  Portugal,  at  that  period,  processions 
and  religious  ceremonies  would  have  been  incomplete 
if  they  had  not  been  accompanied  by  dancing  in  token 
of  }oy. 

"In  order  to  add  brilliancy  to  these  celebrations,  tall 
gilded  masts,  decorated  with  crowns  and  many-coloured 
banners,  were  erected  at  the  doors  of  the  churches  and 


36 


THE  DANCE 


along  the  route  of  the  choreographic  procession.  These 
masts  also  served  to  show  the  points  at  which  the  pro- 
cession should  halt,  for  the  dancers  to  perform  the  prin- 
cipal scenes  of  their  ballet." 

A  century  and  a  half  before  this — in  1462 — King 
Rene  of  Provence  had  organised  an  entertainment,  at 
once  religious  and  social,  given  on  the  eve  of  Corpus 
Christi.     The  word  "entremet"  was  applied  to  the  alle- 


Dance  of  Peasants. 
After  a  sixteenth-century  engraving. 

gorical  scenes,  denoting  "interlude,"  like  the  Italian 
"intermezzo."  Other  components  of  the  representation 
were  combats  and  dances.  The  affair  as  a  whole  was 
a  mixture  of  the  sacred  and  profane  to  which  any  idea 
of  unity  was  completely  alien:  Fame  on  a  winged 
horse;  burlesque  representations  of  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Urbino,  riding  donkeys  (why  represented, 
no  one  knows — ^but  during  three  centuries  the  two  were 
travestied  in  Corpus  Christi  processions);  Mars  and 
Minerva,  Pan  and  Syrinx,  Pluto  and  Proserpine,  fauns, 
dryads  and  tritons  dancing  to  drums,  fifes  and  castanets; 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    37 

Jupiter,  Juno,  Venus  and  Love  following  in  a  chariot. 
The  three  Fates,  King  Herod  persecuted  by  devils,  more 
devils  pursuing  a  soul,  it  in  turn  protected  by  a  guardian 
angel;  Jews  dancing  around  a  golden  calf;  the  Queen 
of  Sheba  and  suite;  Magi  following  a  star  hung  at  the 
end  of  a  pole ;  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents ;  Christ  and 
the  Apostles — all  were  scattered  through  and  among  the 
groups  of  legendary  beings  of  Greece.  More  dancers, 
a  detachment  of  soldiers,  and  Death  with  a  scythe  fol- 
lowing after  all  others,  approximately  completed  the 
fantastic  catalogue. 

The  entertainment  as  a  whole  was  called  by  the  king 
the  Lou  Gue.  A  number  of  the  French  popular  dance 
airs  that  lasted  for  centuries  are  said  to  date  back  to 
it.  Tradition  credits  the  king  with  the  composition  of 
the  work  in  all  its  branches — conception,  ballets,  music 
and  all. 

The  childish  lack  of  theme,  or  scheme,  bars  the  Lou 
Gue  and  the  entertainments  that  followed  from  any 
comparison  with  a  ballet  spectacle  of  later  times,  or  of 
antiquity.  But  it  bridged  a  gap  to  better  things,  kept 
the  ballet  in  existence,  and  had  the  merit  of  being  amus- 
ing. In  eccentricity  it  may  well  be  coupled  with  the 
celebration  of  the  wedding  of  Charles  the  Bold  and  Mar- 
garet of  England;  "fabulous  spectacles  imprinted  with 
a  savage  gallantry,"  as  M.  Brussel  puts  it.  The  proces- 
sion of  the  latter  affair  included  a  leopard  riding  a  uni- 
corn, a  dwarf  on  a  gigantic  lion,  and  a  dromedary  bear- 
ing panniers  of  birds,  "strangely  painted  as  though  they 
came  from  India,"  that  were  released  among  the  com- 
pany. 

The  fete  organised  by  Bergonzio  de  Botta  in  1489, 
showed  a  step  in  the  direction  of  the  ballet's  destined 


38  THE  DANCE 

progress.  The  occasion  was  the  marriage  of  Galeazzo, 
Duke  of  Milan,  with  Isabel  of  Aragon.  This  fete  em- 
ployed the  dance,  music,  poetry  and  pantomime  in  the 
adornment  of  a  banquet;  and  the  whole  entertainment 
was  unified  with  ingenious  consistency.  The  descrip- 
tion of  it  given  by  Castil-Blaze  cannot  be  improved 
upon: 

"The  Amphitryon  chose  for  his  theatre  a  magnificent 
hall  surrounded  by  a  gallery,  in  which  several  bands  of 
music  had  been  stationed;  an  empty  table  occupied  the 
middle.  At  the  moment  when  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
appeared,  Jason  and  the  Argonauts  advanced  proudly 
to  the  sound  of  martial  music.  They  bore  the  Golden 
Fleece ;  this  was  the  tablecloth,  with  which  they  covered 
the  table,  after  having  executed  a  stately  dance,  expres- 
sive of  their  admiration  of  so  beautiful  a  princess,  and 
of  a  sovereign  so  worthy  to  possess  her.  Next  came 
Mercury,  who  related  how  he  had  been  clever  enough 
to  trick  Apollo,  shepherd  of  Admetus,  and  rob  him  of  a 
fat  calf,  which  he  ventured  to  present  to  the  newly  mar- 
ried pair,  after  having  had  it  nobly  trussed  and  pre- 
pared by  the  best  cook  on  Olympus.  While  he  was 
placing  it  upon  the  table,  three  quadrilles  that  followed 
him  danced  round  the  fatted  calf,  as  the  Hebrews  had 
formerly  capered  round  that  of  gold. 

"Diana  and  her  nymphs  followed  Mercury.  It  is 
unnecessary  to  say  that  a  fanfare  of  hunting-horns  her- 
alded the  entrance  of  Diana,  and  accompanied  the  dance 
of  the  nymphs. 

"The  music  changed  its  character;  lutes  and  flutes 
announced  the  approach  of  Orpheus.  I  would  recall  to 
the  memory  of  those  who  might  have  forgotten  it,  that 
at  that  period  they  changed  their  instruments  accord- 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    39 

ing  to  the  varying  expression  of  the  music  played.  Each 
singer,  each  dancer,  had  his  especial  orchestra,  which 
was  arranged  for  him  according  to  the  sentiments  in- 
tended to  be  expressed  by  his  song  or  his  dance.  It  was 
an  excellent  plan,  and  served  to  vary  the  symphonies; 
it  announced  the  return  of  a  character  who  had  already 
appeared,  and  produced  a  varied  succession  of  trumpets, 
of  violins  with  their  sharp  notes,  of  the  arpeggios  of 
lutes,  and  of  the  soft  melodies  of  flutes  and  reed  pipes. 
The  orchestrations  of  Monteverde  prove  that  the  com- 
posers at  that  time  varied  their  instrumentation  thus, 
and  this  particular  artifice  was  not  one  of  the  least  causes 
of  the  prodigious  success  of  opera  in  the  first  years  of 
its  creation. 

"But  to  return  to  the  singer  of  Thrace,  whom  I  left 
standing  somewhat  too  long  at  the  door.  He  appeared 
chanting  the  praises  of  the  Duchess,  and  accompanying 
himself  on  a  lyre. 

"  'I  wept,'  he  went  on,  'long  did  I  weep  on  the  Apen- 
nine  mount  the  death  of  the  gentle  Eurydice.  I  have 
heard  of  the  union  of  two  lovers  worthy  to  live  one  for 
the  other,  and  for  the  first  time  since  my  misfortune  I 
have  experienced  a  feeling  of  pleasure.  My  songs 
changed  with  the  feelings  of  my  heart.  A  crowd  of 
birds  fluttered  down  to  listen  to  me;  I  seized  these  im- 
prudent listeners,  and  I  spitted  them  all  to  roast  them  for 
the  most  beautiful  princess  on  earth,  since  Eurydice  is  no 
more.' 

"A  sound  of  brass  instruments  interrupted  the  bird- 
snaring  virtuoso;  Atalanta  and  Theseus,  escorted  by 
a  brilliant  and  agile  troop,  represented  a  boar  hunt  by 
means  of  lively  dances.  It  ended  in  the  death  of  the  boar 
of  Calydon,  which  they  offered  to  the  young  Duke,  exe- 


40  THE  DANCE 

cuting  a  triumphal  ballet.  Iris,  in  a  chariot  drawn  by- 
peacocks,  followed  by  nymphs  clad  in  light  transparent 
gauze,  appeared  on  one  side,  and  laid  on  the  table  dishes 
of  her  own  superb  and  delicate  birds.  Hebe,  bearing 
nectar,  appeared  on  the  other  side,  accompanied  by  shep- 
herds from  Arcady,  and  by  Vertumnus  and  Pomona,  who 
presented  iced  creams  and  cheeses,  peaches,  apples, 
oranges  and  grapes.  At  the  same  moment  the  shade  of 
the  gastronomer  Apicius  rose  from  the  earth.  The  il- 
lustrious professor  came  to  inspect  this  splendid  banquet, 
and  to  communicate  his  discoveries  to  the  guests. 

"This  spectacle  disappeared  to  give  place  to  a  great 
ballet  of  Tritons  and  Rivers  laden  with  the  most  deli- 
cious fish.  Crowned  with  parsley  and  watercress,  these 
aquatic  deities  despoiled  themselves  of  their  head- 
dresses to  make  a  bed  for  the  turbot,  the  trout,  and  the 
perch  that  they  placed  upon  the  table. 

"I  know  not  whether  the  epicures  invited  by  the  host 
were  much  amused  by  these  ingenious  ceremonies,  and 
whether  their  tantalised  stomachs  did  not  cry  out  against 
all  the  pleasures  offered  to  their  eyes  and  ears;  history 
does  not  enter  into  these  details.  Moreover,  Bergonzio 
de  Botta  understood  too  well  how  to  organise  a  feast 
not  to  have  put  some  ballast  into  his  guests  in  the  shape 
of  a  copious  luncheon,  which  might  serve  as  a  preface, 
or  argument,  an  introduction  if  you  will,  to  the  dinner 
prepared  by  the  gods,  demigods.  Nymphs,  Tritons, 
Fauns  and  Dryads. 

"This  memorable  repast  was  followed  by  a  singular 
spectacle.  It  was  inaugurated  by  Orpheus,  who  con- 
ducted Hymen  and  Cupids.  The  Graces  presented  Con- 
jugal Fidelity,  who  offered  herself  to  wait  upon  the  prin- 
cess.    Semiramus,  Helen,  Phaedra,  Medea  and  Cleopatra 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    41 

interrupted  the  solo  of  Conjugal  Fidelity  by  singing  of 
their  own  lapses,  and  the  delights  of  infidelity.  Fidelity, 
indignant  at  such  audacity,  ordered  these  criminal  queens 
to  retire.  The  Cupids  attacked  them,  pursuing  them 
with  their  torches,  and  setting  fire  to  the  long  veils  that 
covered  their  heads.     Something,  clearly,  was  necessary 


Ballet  of  the  Four  Parts  of  the  World:   Entrance  of  the  Grand 

Khan. 
After  an  old  drawing,  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  Paris. 

to  counterbalance  this  scene.  Lucretia,  Penelope,  Tho- 
myris,  Judith,  Portia  and  Sulpicia  advanced,  and  laid 
at  the  feet  of  the  duchess  the  palms  of  virtue  they  had 
won  during  their  lives.  As  the  graceful  and  modest 
dance  of  the  matrons  might  have  seemed  a  somewhat 
cold  termination-  to  so  brilliant  a  fete,  the  author  had 
recourse  to  Bacchus,  Silenus  and  to  the  Satyrs,  and  their 
follies  animated  the  end  of  the  ballet." 

The  entertainment  made  a  sensation.     It  was  at  the 
time  of  the  Renaissance ;  the  Occidental  mind  was  awak- 


42  THE  DANCE 

ening  after  a  thousand  years  of  sleep,  and  craved  em- 
ployment. Taste  was  being  reborn,  along  with  men- 
tality. The  pleasures  of  contact  between  minds  was  be- 
ing rediscovered;  the  institution  of  Polite  Society  was 
rapidly  finding  itself. 

To  attempt  to  repeat  the  Bergonzio  de  Botta  enter- 
tainment would  have  been  to  invite  comparisons ;  to  sur- 
pass it  in  any  point  but  magnitude  would  have  been  ex- 
cessively difficult.  Its  influence  on  entertainments  that, 
followed  directed  itself  toward  the  development  of  the 
masque,  a  form  of  musical  pantomime  that  remained, 
through  centuries,  an  indispensable  adjunct  of  festal 
gatherings  in  the  courts  of  the  Continent  and  England. 
The  characters  in  the  De  Botta  production,  it  will  be 
noted,  were,  with  two  or  three  exceptions,  from  Greek 
mythology.  This  was  the  culmination  of  a  fashion  that 
had  been  growing,  and  is  fairly  representative  of  the 
revival  of  learning  then  in  progress.  It  was  not  until 
a  few  years  ago  that  familiarity  with  classic  tradition 
ceased  to  be  considered  a  part  of  the  education  of  a 
lady  or  gentleman.  There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that 
the  lack  of  such  erudition  makes  one  the  less  a  lady  or 
a  gentleman;  but  its  discontinuance  is  unfortunate  for 
the  pantomime  ballet.  In  Greek  mythology,  both  nat- 
ural manifestations  and  mental  attributes  were  personi- 
fied. Not  with  the  completeness  of  a  catalogue,  but 
enough  to  express  a  great  many  points  by  the  mere 
presence  of  certain  characters.  Venus,  Minerva,  Diana ; 
Dionysius,  Orpheus,  Apollo,  Mercury — all  were  accepted 
symbols  of  certain  human  qualities.  In  relegating  their 
acquaintance  to  the  depository  of  cast-oflF  mental  fur- 
niture, people  have  failed  to  create  new  symbols  to  take 
the  place  of  the  old.     Harlequin  and  Columbine  we  have, 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    43 

and  a  few  others.  But  how  many  are  the  figures  whose 
mere  entrance,  without  the  interruption  of  dramatic  ac- 
tion, could  be  depended  upon  to  introduce  definite  and 
recognisable  ideas?  Pantomime  has  to  be  explained  on 
the  programme  nowadays ;  and  as  nobody  gets  to  his  seat 
until  after  the  auditorium  lights  are  down,  the  pro- 
gramme is  unread  and  people  complain  that  the  charac- 
ters lack  meaning.  Broadly,  Modernism  has  devised 
for  itself  an  education  that  teaches  it  to  earn  each  day 
the  cost  of  a  thousand  pleasures,  but  by  which  it  is 
robbed  of  the  power  to  enjoy  any  one  of  them. 

Scattered  through  mediaeval  choreographic  history  are 
allusions  to  an  employment  of  chivalry  as  subject-mat- 
ter of  pantomime.  But  the  idea  never  seems  to  have 
taken  root,  as  is  natural  enough,  considering  the  rela- 
tion between  dancing  and  armour — and  armour  was 
worn  by  the  unfortunate  dancers  chosen  to  represent 
knights.  The  dance  of  chivalry  was  not  an  influence, 
and  is  mentioned  only  as  a  choreographic  curiosity. 

Bergonzio  de  Botta's  great  entertainment,  as  has  been 
shown,  led  squarely  up  to  the  masque,  one  of  the  ballet's 
immediate  forerunners.  Meantime  the  Church's  con- 
tribution to  the  art  was  no  longer  a  matter  of  moralities 
for  the  edification  of  mediaeval  rustics ;  high  dignitaries, 
proceeding  partly  under  ecclesiastical  inspiration  and 
partly  under  tolerance,  were  evolving  a  choro-dramatic 
form  that  took  no  second  place  to  the  masque  in  prepar- 
ing the  way  for  the  art  that  was  to  come.  Sixteenth- 
century  Rome  and  Florence  saw  "sacred  representa- 
tions" in  which  were  utilised  the  S altar ello  [see  chapter 
on  Italian  dances],  the  Pavane,  the  Siciliana,  la  Gigue, 
the  Gaillarde  and  la  Moresca.  The  last  was  accom- 
panied by  heel-tappings,  like  many  of  the  dances  of 


44  THE  DANCE 

Spain  to-day.  Its  music  survives  in  Monteverde's  opera 
Orfeo,  written  at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury; in  other  words,  music  was  beginning  to  be  worth 
while.  More  important  than  any  other  single  acquisi- 
tion, to  say  the  least,  was  the  alliance  of  some  of  the 
monarchs  of  form  and  colour  to  whom  half  the  glory 
of  the  Renaissance  is  due.  Of  Ariosto's  Suppositi,  pre- 
sented in  the  Vatican  in  1518,  the  decorations  were  by 
Raphael.  Andrea  del  Sarto,  Brunelleschi  and  Cecca  en- 
riched with  their  sacred  figures  the  mimo-dramas  played 
in  Florence.  In  Milan,  Leonardo  da  Vinci  lent  to  the 
reality  and  beauty  of  the  religious  ballet  the  palette  from 
which  was  painted  the  "Mona  Lisa."  Furthermore, 
it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  these  and  other  masters  of 
line,  colour  and  the  drama  of  light  were  not  called  to  the 
aid  of  ballet  grouping  and  movement.  The  period  leaves 
no  record  of  a  great  ballet  composer  or  director.  It  does 
leave  reason  to  believe,  nevertheless,  that  in  grouping 
and  evolution,  as  well  as  decoration,  music  and  accesso- 
ries, these  sacred  representations  lacked  nothing  to  en- 
title them  to  a  respectable  place  in  the  annals  of  opera 
ballet.  Steps  were  still  primitive,  but  sufficient  unto 
their  day. 

Authorities  disagree  as  to  which  one  of  several  per- 
formances is  entitled  to  the  recognition  due  the  first 
presentation  of  modern  ballet.  As  a  matter  of  accuracy, 
any  decision  should  be  made  only  after  considering  ex- 
actly which  of  several  species  of  modern  ballet  is  meant. 
For  the  organisation  of  the  first  ballet  spectacle  con- 
forming to  the  multiple  standards  of  modern  excellence, 
the  honour  seems  to  be  deserved  by  Catherine  de  Medici. 
True  to  her  family  traditions,  she  took  it  as  an  expres- 
sion of  beauty  for  its  own  sake,  and  developed  it  in  ac- 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    45 

cordance  with  French  genius  for  order  and  form,  as  is 
described  in  later  pages.  But  the  first  production  of 
opera  ballet,  in  the  sense  of  a  divertissement  or  inter- 
mezzo composed  to  interpret  sentiments  of  dramatic  ac- 
tion that  it  precedes  or  follows,  the  consensus  of  au- 
thority attributes  to  a  work  of  Cardinal  Riario,  a 
nephew  of  Pope  Sixtus  IV.  He  composed  and  staged 
in  Castel  San  Angelo  a  number  of  productions  in 
which  the  ballet  was  important,  during  the  latter  part 
of  the  fifteenth  century.  Besides  Pope  Sixtus  IV,  Alex- 
ander VI  and  Leo  X  were  strongly  in  sympathy  with  the 
movement  to  exalt  choreography  to  its  ancient  and 
proper  estate.  The  educated  aristocracy  of  various 
Italian  cities  gave  it  support  and  protection.  Important 
among  these  champions  was  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  with 
his  rare  combination  of  means  and  scholarly  understand- 
ing of  the  arts.  Savonarola  acidly  charged  him  with 
softening  the  people  by  means  of  pagan  spectacles,  while 
Lorenzo  went  on  adapting  and  composing. 

The  Jewish  element  of  Italian  society  contributed  its 
part  to  the  new  art's  development.  At  Mantua,  where 
the  Jews  formed  a  numerous  colony,  they  built  a  theatre 
on  the  models  of  antiquity.  Productions  were  directed 
by  Bernard  Tasso,  father  of  the  author  of  Jerusalem 
Delivered.  Torquato  himself  went  in  1573  to  produce 
La  Pastorale,  which  was  a  feature  of  a  celebration  given 
on  the  Island  of  the  Belvidere,  near  Ferrara. 

The  ballet  entertainment  was  fashionable;  no  great 
event  was  complete  without  it  as  a  supplement.  The 
visit  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou  (the  future  Henry  III)  to 
Cracow  was  the  occasion  of  a  fete  whose  historic  im- 
portance was  the  discovery  of  a  genius  in  ballet  arrange- 
ment,  Baltarazini,   otherwise  known  as   Beaujoyeubc. 


46 


THE  DANCE 


Catherine  de  Medici  sent  for  him  to  take  charge  of  the 
choreographic  entertainments  of  the  French  court,  the 
Marshal  de  Brissac  acting  as  intermediary.  "Baltara- 
zini  dit  Beaujoyeulx"  had  his  first  great  opportunity  in 
1 58 1,  on  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  the  Due  de 
Joyeuse.  Le  Ballet  Comique  de  la  Reine  was  the  desig- 
nation of  the  offering;  it  was  an  addition  to  the  now 
growing  list  of  tremendous  successes.     Full  details  are 


A  Fourteenth-century  Ball. 
After  detail  of  an  illuminated  MS.  in  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale. 

recorded  in  the  journal  of  one  L'Estoile,  and  in  UArt 
de  la  Danse  by  Jean  Etienne  Despreaux.  To  repeat 
them  in  full  is  neither  .necessary  nor  possible :  the  amiable 
L'Estoile  in  particular  experiences  all  the  delight  of  a 
simple  soul  surrounded  by  several  days'  proceedings  of 
which  not  a  single  detail  is  anything  less  than  amazing. 
The  lords  and  ladies  appeared  in  a  fresh  costume  every 
day,  a  new  practice  of  whose  extravagance  L'Estoile 
writes  with  a  mixture  of  awe  and  disapproval. 

The  story  of  Le  Ballet  Comique  was  the  mixture  of 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    47 

Old  Testament  story  and  mythology  already  familiar. 
Fountains,  artificial  fire  and  aquatic  machines  lent  their 
several  notes  of  richness  and  variety.  Important  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  amateur  of  the  ballet  is  a  com- 
ment on  the  geometrical  precision  that  governed  the  bal- 
let's groupings  and  corps  movements:  "d'une  rectitude 
qu'  Archuftede  n'eut  pas  desavoue."  The  true  and  mod- 
ern note  of  form  in  grouping  had  been  struck,  and  the 
standard  of  exactness  set  that  was  to  become  the  back- 
bone of  the  ballet  of  later  centuries.  As  the  first  ar- 
tistically logical  relation  of  dancing  to  the  sentiment  of 
the  whole  work  had  been  effected  in  the  "sacred  repre- 
sentations" of  Italy,  so  Le  Ballet  Comique  de  la  Reine 
seems  to  have  been  the  first  work  of  the  kind  to  be  pro- 
duced under  a  modern  (which  is  to  say  ancient  Greek) 
understanding  of  the  laws  of  harmony  of  line. 

The  performance  lasted  from  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening 
until  four  in  the  morning.  Estimates  of  its  cost  range 
from  six  hundred  thousand  to  a  million  dollars  (three 
to  five  million  francs).  Of  tournaments,  presents  and 
numberless  other  items  of  the  several  days'  celebration 
the  cost  is  reckoned  apart  from  that  of  producing  Le 
Ballet  Comique.  Apart  from  lavishness,  there  is  inter- 
est in  the  fact  that  queen  and  princesses  participated. 
They  represented  nereids  and  naiads. 

England,  meantime,  was  in  nowise  ignoring  the  ex- 
ample of  Continental  neighbours.  Pantomimes  she  had 
under  the  names  of  "mysteries,"  "dumb-shows"  and 
"moralities" — religious,  and  melodramatic,  and  vari- 
ously proportioned  mixtures  of  both.  They  figure  in  the 
history  of  the  English  drama,  as  a  source  of  plots  for 
the  early  playwright.  Though  the  translation  of  ges- 
ture into  word  filled  a  want  felt  by  a  part  of  the  people, 


48  THE  DANCE 

it  subtracted  nothing  from  the  popularity  of  the  masque. 
Henry  VIII  was  its  patron,  and  occasionally  took  part  in 
it.  Elizabeth  carried  it  on.  Francis  Bacon,  with  whom 
love  of  stage  representation  was  a  passion,  wrote  plots 
— and  dialogue  where  it  was  needed.  Charles  I  brought 
it  to  a  climax  of  taste  and  opulence.  Inigo  Jones — of 
whose  high  merits  as  an  artist  evidences  are  extant — 
designed  decorations.  Ben  Jonson  was  accustomed  to 
write  the  book  for  important  productions.  A  notable 
work  of  collaboration  of  the  two,  with  the  addition  of 
Lawes,  the  musical  composer,  was  a  masque  presented 
at  Whitehall  by  the  Inns  of  Court  in  1633.  The  cost  is 
stated  as  £21,000.  Although  a  ballet  was  perhaps  the 
principal  feature  of  the  production,  its  composer  is  not 
named  in  the  records.  England's  failure  to  credit  the 
original  genius  may  or  may  not  bear  some  relation  to 
her  sterility  as  a  contributor  to  the  dance.  With  sup- 
port, both  sentimental  and  material,  she  has  been  lavish 
— in  the  wake  of  other  nations'  enthusiasms.  Of  inven- 
tion she  has  given  nothing  of  consequence.  We  there- 
fore turn  our  attention  again  to  France,  where  history 
was  busy. 

Henry  IV  was  of  a  happy  disposition;  the  dance  in 
his  reign  was  happy  in  motive,  and  healthy  in  growth. 
To  give  time  to  its  practice  none  was  too  high  in  station 
or  serious  in  mind.  Sully,  the  philosopher,  profiting  by 
training  given  him  by  the  king's  sister,  played  a  part  in 
one  of  the  fetes.  The  journal  of  L'Estoile  mentions  the 
production  of  eighty  new  ballets  during  the  twenty-one 
years  of  the  reign. 

The  nature  of  Louis  XIII  was  taciturn;  an  influence 
that  caused  the  ballet  to  oscillate  between  the  sombre 
and  the  trivial.     The  monarch  himself  played  "The 


Seventeenth  Century  Court  Dances 
Mr.  John  Murray  Anderson  and  Miss  Margaret  Crawford 

The  Tordion  (i,  2)  — The  Pavane  (3,  4,  5) 


To  face  page  48 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    49 

Demon  of  Fire"  in  La  Delivrance  de  Renault,  in  161 7. 
Of  Le  Ballet  de  la  Merlaison  that  he  produced  in  1635, 
he  composed  the  dance  music. 

A  whim  of  this  reign  is  to  the  credit  of  the  Duke  of 
Nemours.  To  contrive  a  choreographic  composition 
"docile  to  his  rheumatism,"  he  composed  in  1630  a  Ballet 
of  the  Gouty.  Meantime  the  dance  was  becoming  friv- 
olous, if  not  licentious.  To  rectify  its  shortcomings 
Richelieu  applied  himself — not  to  preaching  damnations 
of  dancing  in  general,  but  to  the  creation  of  an  allegorical 
ballet  of  the  sort  he  thought  suitable.  Quatre  Mon- 
archies Chretiennes,  played  in  1635,  is  a  result  of  his 
efforts;  "full  of  pageantry  the  most  opulent  and  moral- 
ity the  most  orthodox,"  in  the  words  of  Robert  Brussel. 

The  regency  of  Anne  of  Austria  developed  nothing  in 
particular;  a  delicate  character  enveloped  the  dance  in 
conformity  to  the  regent's  disposition  and  taste.  But 
distinct  progress  was  not  destined  to  take  place  until  the 
reign  of  Louis  XIV,  founder  of  the  national  ballet  acad- 
emy, perhaps  the  most  helpful  patron  the  dance  ever 
had,  and  as  devoutly  enthusiastic  an  amateur  performer 
as  ever  lived.  He  played  prominent  parts  in  ballet  pan- 
tomimes to  the  number  of  twenty-six. 

The  date  of  the  founding  of  the  school,  L'Academie 
Nationale  de  Musique  et  de  la  Danse,  is  1661.  From 
that  time,  through  several  decades,  developments  follow 
with  extraordinary  rapidity,  and  in  so  many  different 
directions  that  it  is  impossible  to  follow  them  consecu- 
tively. Great  performers  begin  to  appear ;  artists  whose 
work  enraptures  the  public  by  grace  of  beauty  alone, 
signifying  that  execution  had  been  awakened.  Miles. 
Prevost  and  Salle  were  contemporaries  and  rivals,  each 
with  a  great  and  ardent  supporting  faction.     Of  the  lat- 


so 


THE  DANCE 


ter's  personality,  it  is  of  interest  that  she  was  a  friend 
of  Locke,  author  of  Human  Understanding.  Her  pop- 
ularity is  gauged  by  her  pay  for  a  single  performance 
in  London,  namely,  something  over  two  hundred  thou- 
sand francs.  The  amount  probably  includes  the  con- 
siderable quantity  of  gold  and  jewels  thrown  to  the  stage 


^^3!^ 


Louis  XIV   (as  "The  Sun")   and  a  Courtier   (as  "Night")   in  the 
Ballet  of  Night. 


during  the  performance,  for  enthusiasm  appears  to  have 
reached  the  point  of  mania.  This  admiration  was  won 
without  very  rapid  movement,  Salle  believing  only  in 
the  majestic;  or  any  high  or  very  broad  steps,  which  did 
not  exist  in  the  ballet  in  her  time.  To  have  stirred  the 
public  as  she  did  without  these  resources  argues  a  de- 
gree of  grace  and  expressiveness  less  earthly  than  heav- 
enly. 

Yet  her  reputation  was  to  be  eclipsed  by  a  girl  who 
was  studying  during  the  very  hours  when  Salle  was 
gathering  laurels.     Camargo  was  her  name.     She  was 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    51 

born  in  Brussels,  daughter  of  a  dancing  master.  To 
natural  grace  and  health  she  added  an  inordinate  fond- 
ness for  dancing,  and  eager  facility  for  learning  its  tech- 
nicalities. Parental  vacillation  and  educational  theories 
cripple  many  an  artist's  career  at  its  beginning.  But 
Camargo's  father  being  a  dancing  teacher,  there  was 
just  one  thing  for  the  child  to  do  in  the  natural  course 
of  events,  and  that  was  to  learn  to  dance. 

At  the  age  of  ten,  her  art  attracted  the  attention  of  a 
patroness,  and  she  was  sent  to  Paris  to  study  under  Mile. 
Prevost.  In  the  corps  de  ballet  at  the  opera  she  bolted 
into  public  notice  by  joining  impulse  to  accident.  One 
Dumoulin,  on  a  certain  occasion,  missed  his  musical  cue 
for  entrance  to  perform  a  solo.  Mile.  Camargo  leaped 
from  her  place  and  executed  the  solo  to  the  delight  of 
the  audience.  Introduced  at  court,  her  triumph  so  af- 
fected Prevost  that  she  discontinued  her  pupil's  instruc- 
tion. It  was  no  longer  needed.  Camargo's  genius  had 
carried  her  beyond  the  reach  of  jealousy,  or  even  the  ac- 
tive intrigue  that  her  ex-teacher  directed  against  her. 

Her  matrimonial  and  other  social  ventures  were  con- 
ducted with  such  an  air  of  candour,  and  were  of  such  a 
diversity  that  they  are,  above  all,  amusing.  She  was  a 
much-petted  personage  at  court,  and  an  esteemed  friend 
of  the  king.  In  general  she  was  known  "as  a  model 
of  charity,  modesty  and  good  conduct."  She  was  given 
a  maiden's  funeral. 

Castil-Blaze  writes  of  her:  "She  added  to  distinc- 
tion and  fire  of  execution  a  bewitching  gaiety  that  was 
all  her  own.  Her  figure  was  very  favourable  to  her 
talent :  hands,  feet,  limbs,  stature,  all  were  perfect.  But 
her  face,  though  expressive,  was  not  remarkably  beau- 
tiful.    And,  as  in  the  case  of  the  famous  harlequin, 


52  THE  DANCE 

Dominique,  her  gaiety  was  a  gaiety  of  the  stage  only. 
In  private  Hfe  she  was  sadness  itself." 

In  a  technical  sense  she  may  be  regarded  as  the  first 
modern.  Her  work  comprised  all  that  constituted  the 
ballet  up  to  her  time ;  to  the  resources  that  came  to  her  as 
an  artistic  heritage  she  began  a  process  of  addition  that 
was  to  be  carried  on  by  successors.  She  is  credited  with 
the  invention  of  the  entrechat,  for  instance;  and  here 
many  readers  will  find  themselves  confronted  by  the  need 
of  some  explanation  of  ballet  technique  as  a  means  of 
intelligent  discussion  of  the  dancing  of  modern  times. 
Before  that  chapter,  however,  it  is  not  amiss  to  glance 
over  the  old  dances  from  which  the  ballet,  up  to  the 
foundation  of  the  Academy  in  1661,  derived  most  of  its 
steps. 

The  Gavotte,  the  Minuet,  the  Pavane,  the  Saraband, 
the  Tordion,  the  Bourree,  the  Passecaille,  the  Passepied, 
the  Chaconne,  the  Volte,  the  Allemande,  the  Gaillarde, 
and  the  Courante — these  were  the  dances  whose  meas- 
ures were  trod  by  courtiers  of  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries.  Among  those  who  have  been  moved 
to  study  these  old  dances  during  the  past  few  years  to 
the  end  of  reconstructing  them,  no  one  is  more  fortu- 
nately equipped  for  the  task  than  the  only  resident  of 
America  who  has  applied  himself  seriously  to  the  sub- 
ject, Mr.  John  Murray  Anderson.  He  is  at  once  a 
dancer,  an  educated  man,  and  for  years  a  devoted  student 
of  the  social  aspect  of  western  Europe  in  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries.  A  period  of  months  that  he 
recently  spent  in  the  choreographic  libraries  of  Europe, 
and  in  joint  study  with  others  similarly  engaged,  has 
resulted  in  the  opportunity  to  see  in  America  a  fine  and 
true  representation  of  the  old  court  steps.     With  Miss 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    53 

Margaret  Crawford,  Mr.  Anderson  posed  for  the  ac- 
companying photographs  of  the  Gavotte,  the  Minuet,  the 
Bourree,  and  the  Tordion.  The  groupings  were  selected 
with  view  to  indicating  the  character  of  each  dance. 
Collectively  they  give  a  good  idea  of  the  school  of  formal- 
ity in  which  the  French  ballet  was  conceived,  and  from 
which  it  received  its  determining  influences. 

From  the  beginnings  of  time,  people  who  give  enter- 
tainments have  followed  a  practice  of  employing  per- 
formers of  dances  characteristic  of  various  peoples. 
With  appropriate  costume,  the  danses  caracteristiques 
give  a  synopsis,  or  essence,  of  the  picturesque  aspect 
of  the  people  the  dancer  represents.  Sixteenth-century 
nobility  availed  itself  of  the  entertainment  value  of  these 
folk-dances,  as  Athens  did  in  its  golden  days  and  as  Lon- 
don and  Newport  do  to-day.  In  such  manner  did  French 
society  gather  its  material  for  many  of  the  dances  that 
eventually  became  identified  with  the  ballroom. 

The  Gavotte  is  of  such  origin.  A  few  generations  of 
languid  cultivation  refined  the  life  out  of  it,  though  it 
was  at  first  a  comparatively  active  dance.  After  drop- 
ping nearly  into  disuse  it  was  revived  and  popularised 
by  Marie  Antoinette,  for  whose  rendering  of  it  Gluck 
composed  music.  After  the  Revolution,  with  its  paralys- 
ing influence,  the  Gavotte  was  once  again  revived — and 
revised — ^by  Gardel,  premier  danseur  of  the  Opera,  in  a 
composition  based  on  music  by  Gretry.  But  this  com- 
position was  not  of  a  kind  for  the  execution  of  any  but 
trained  dancers  of  the  stage,  Gardel  having  made  it  a 
metier  for  the  exploitation  of  his  own  capabilities. 
Among  new  elaborations  the  simple  little  jumping  steps 
and  the  easy  arabesque  that  distinguished  the  Gavotte 
of  earlier  days  were  lost. 


54 


THE  DANCE 


The  Tordion  is  another  dance  of  lively  origin.  Some- 
times it  was  made  a  vehicle  for  the  grotesque,  such  as 
black-face  comedy — let  no  one  be  surprised  that  the 
"coon  comedian"  of  to-day  is  an  ancient  institution.  It 
was  stepped  briskly,  even  in  the  stately  environment  of 
court.  The  position  of  the  foot  with  the  heel  on  the 
floor  and  the  toe  up  was  not  adopted  by  the  ballet,  but 
is  found  in  folk  or  "character"  dances  in  all  parts  of 
Europe. 

The  Allemande  also  was  a  dance  of  movement;  so  was 
the  Volte.  In  the  former  the  man  turns  his  partner  by 
her  raised  hand ;  in  the  costume  of  the  time,  the  whirl  is 
very  effective.  The  Volte  is  supposed  to  be  the  imme- 
diate ancestor  of  the  Waltz. 

The  Saraband  came  into  France  from  Spain,  where 
it  was  tremendously  popular  as  la  Zarabanda.  It  dates 
from  the  twelfth  century,  and  was  praised  by  Cervantes. 
Its  character  justifies  the  belief  that  it  comes  from  Moor- 
ish origins.  It  is  a  solo  dance  making  noble  use  of  the 
arms,  and  is  executed  with  a  plastic  relaxation  of  the 
body.  A  distinctly  Oriental  mannerism  is  its  quick  shift 
of  the  foot,  just  as  it  is  placed  on  the  floor,  from  the  cus- 
tomary position  of  toeing  out  to  a  position  of  toeing  in. 
The  foot-work,  moreover,  has  little  more  than  slow 
glides.  Its  exotic  qualities,  nevertheless,  are  subordi- 
nate to  its  Occidental  courtliness;  like  all  the  other 
dances  of  polite  society,  it  conformed  to  the  etiquette  of 
its  time  and  place,  notwithstanding  improprieties  of 
which  it  had  been  guilty  in  earlier  centuries. 

Marguerite  de  Valois  was  fond  of  the  Bourree  be- 
cause, according  to  tradition,  she  had  an  extraordinary 
natural  endowment  in  the  shape  of  feet  and  ankles.  And 
the  skipping  step   (related  to  the  modern  polka-step) 


Seventeenth  Century  Court  Dances 

The  Saraband  (i)  —  The  Allemand  (3)  —  The  other  groups  are  from  the  Minuet 
—  6  and  5  (in  that  order)  represent  the  Mirror  figure  in  the  Minuet  de  la  Reine 


To  face  page  54 


The  "Gavotte" 


To  face  page  55 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    S5 

of  the  Bourree  necessitated  the  wearing  of  a  shorter 
skirt  than  the  mode  of  her  day  permitted  for  ordinary- 
use.  It  never  was  a  rigorously  formulated  composition, 
perhaps  because  it  never  became  very  popular  at  court. 
It  contributed  to  the  ballet  the  latter's  useful  pas  de 
bourree,  and  continues  as  a  diversion  of  the  peasants 
of  Auvergne,  where  it  originated. 

The  Passepied  was  one  of  a  family  known  as  les 
hranles,  whose  family  characteristics  are  ill  defined,  de- 
spite the  frequency  with  which  the  term  is  used  by  sev- 
enteenth-century writers.  In  England  the  word  became 
"brawl."  It  was  the  Branle  du  Haut  Barrois  in  which 
gentry  costumed  themselves  as  the  shepherds  and 
shepherdesses  perpetuated  by  Watteau.  Another,  the 
Branle  des  Lavandieres,  was  based  on  pantomime  of  the 
operations  of  the  laundress.  In  the  Branle  des  Ermites, 
monk's  dress  was  worn.  In  that  of  the  Flambeaux, 
torches  were  passed  to  newly  selected  partners,  as  in  a 
present-day  cotillion  figure;  it  was  a  fashionable  figure 
at  wedding  celebrations. 

Tabourot's  amiable  hints  for  the  elegant  execution  of 
branles  probably  are  not  directed  at  the  court.  But  they 
are  illuminating.  "Talk  gracefully,  and  be  clean  and 
well  shod;  be  sure  that  the  hose  is  straight,  and  that 
the  slipper  is  clean  ...  do  not  use  your  handkerchief 
more  than  is  necessary,  but  if  you  use  it,  be  sure  it  is 
very  clean."  There  is  more;  but,  after  all,  why  violate 
illusions  ? 

The  Chaconne,  like  the  Saraband,  came  to  France 
from  across  the  Pyrenees,  The  dance  of  the  Seises  in 
the  Seville  Cathedral  is  said  to  be  a  Chacona  unchanged 
from  its  sixteenth-century  form. 

The  Gaillarde  is  sometimes  grouped  with  the  Tordion, 


56  THE  DANCE  / 

from  which  it  differs  in  the  respect  that  the  theme  of  its 
steps  is  Httle  jumps,  while  the  Tordion  is,  for  the  most 
part,  ghded.  One  form  of  it,  however,  ''Si  je  faime  ou 
non,"  contained  some  energetic  kicks.  Indeed,  it  was 
of  a  character  to  exercise  heart  and  muscle;  excellence 
in  some  of  its  steps  "was  looked  upon  as  an  accomplish- 
ment equal  to  riding  or  fencing."  To  that  form  of  it 
known  as  "Baisons-nous  Belle"  was  attached  interest 
of  another  variety,  in  the  shape  of  kisses  exchanged  be- 
tween partners.  "A  pleasant  variation,"  comments  the 
venerable  Thoinet-Arbeau.  A  variation  employed  to 
prevent  monotony  in  some  of  the  other  dances  as  well, 
among  them  the  early  Gavotte. 

The  Courante  was  one  of  the  more  formal  dances, 
never  having  been  popular  even  in  its  origin.  It  was 
the  Courante  that  was  favoured  by  Louis  XIV,  during 
his  many  years  of  study  under  a  dancing  master.  He  is 
credited,  before  he  was  overtaken  by  the  demon  of  adi- 
posity, with  having  executed  the  Courante  better  than 
any  one  else  of  his  time.  In  style  it  has  been  compared 
to  the  Seguidillas  (q.  v.)  of  Spain. 

Of  all,  the  dances  most  typical  of  the  formality  of  the 
most  formal  society  western  civilisation  has  produced 
are  the  Minuet  and  the  Pavane.  Both  might  be  char- 
acterised as  variations  of  deep  bows  and  curtsies.  In 
the  Pavane  photographs  it  will  be  noted  that  instead  of 
taking  hold  of  her  partner's  hand,  the  lady  rests  her 
hand  on  the  back  of  his. 

Hernando  Cortez  is  said  to  have  composed  the  Pavane 
(Spanish  Pavana)  and  introduced  it  in  the  court  of  his 
land  on  returning  from  America.  If  so,  he  was  a  solemn 
person,  as  well  as  dignified;  to  the  imposing  grace  of 
majesty  the  dance  joins  the  aloof  grandeur  of  a  ritual. 


MIDDLE  AGES  AND  RENAISSANCE    57 

These  qualities  gave  to  it  the  office  of  opening  great  court 
functions.  Brocades  and  armour  and  swords  prom- 
enaded very  slowly  around  the  room,  each  couple  mak- 
ing its  reverence  to  the  monarchs  before  proceeding  to 
the  steps  of  the  dance.  These  were  few,  simple,  and 
slow;  there  were  many  curtsies,  retreats  and  advances, 
during  which  last  the  gentleman  led  the  lady  by  the  up- 
raised hand,  while  following  her.  Poses  and  groups 
were  held,  statue-like,  for  a  space  of  time  that  allowed 
them  to  impress  themselves  on  the  vision.  So  fond  was 
Elizabeth  of  England  of  the  Pavane  (in  writings  of 
her  land  and  period  spelled  Pavin  and  otherwise)  that 
it  was  more  than  whispered  that  excellence  in  its  per- 
formance was  more  valued  than  statesmanship  as  a  basis 
of  political  favour. 

The  Minuet's  formality  was  graded.  Le  Menuet  du 
Dauphin,  le  Menuet  de  la  Reine,  le  Menuet  d'  Exaudet 
and  le  Menuet  de  la  Cour  were  its  four  species,  the 
stateliness  increasing  in  the  sequence  mentioned.  The 
accompanying  Minuet  photographs  of  Mr.  Anderson  and 
Miss  Crawford  are  of  the  form  de  la  Reine.  The  "mir- 
ror" figure  is  perhaps  its  most  salient  feature — a  pretty 
bit  of  expression  accompanying  an  interlacement  of  arms 
whose  composition  comes  as  a  climax  to  strikingly  in- 
genious and  gracious  arm  movements. 

The  popularity  of  the  Minuet,  in  its  various  forms, 
was  practically  unlimited;  lonely  and  cheerless  indeed 
must  have  been  the  social  life  of  the  man  who  did  not 
dance.  After  the  decline  of  the  Pavane  it  continued  as 
an  inseparable  adjunct  of  gatherings  of  all  degrees  of 
conventionality  within  the  scope  of  a  polite  mode  of  liv- 
ing. At  court  balls,  at  the  romping  Christmas  parties 
of  English  country  places;  in  the  remote  homes  of  Vir- 


58  THE  DANCE 

ginia  planters,  at  governor-generals'  receptions,  in  the 
palaces  of  intendants  in  the  far  North  it  saluted,  made 
coquetry  with  fan  and  eye,  incarnated  in  gallant  fig- 
ures the  brave  and  reverent  spirit  of  chivalry.  Pic- 
tures represent  its  performance  in  home  surroundings 
during  daylight ;  slight  pretext  seems  to  have  served  as 
occasion  for  its  performance.  In  connection  with  this 
popularity  it  must  be  remembered  that,  even  in  its  sim- 
pler forms,  so  much  as  a  passable  execution  of  the  Min- 
uet was  far  from  easy  to  acquire. 

Let  it  be  understood  that  the  grand  ballet  of  to-day  did 
not  spring  full-grown  from  the  dances  above  enum- 
erated. Some  of  their  forms  continued  unchanged 
through  years  of  academic  influence.  Present-day  "ele- 
vation," as  scope  of  high  and  low  level  is  called,  the  great 
leaps,  great  turns,  and,  in  short,  most  of  the  dazzling 
elements  of  to-day's  ballet  are  the  accumulated  contribu- 
tion of  individual  artists  from  time  to  time.  Taglioni, 
of  the  middle  nineteenth  century,  is  the  last  to  add  nota- 
bly to  the  classic  ballet's  alphabet  of  steps.  It  is  not 
unsafe  to  say  that  the  next  few  years  will  see  its  range 
increased :  the  Russians,  avid  for  new  things,  have  ran- 
sacked Egyptian  carvings  and  Greek  vases.  Trained  to 
perfection  in  the  technique  and  philosophy  of  their  art, 
they  are  incorporating  intelligently  the  newly  rediscov- 
ered with  the  long  familiar.  But  a  concrete  idea  of 
their  relation  to  the  art,  or  of  the  art  itself,  cannot  be 
had  without  some  acquaintance  with  its  actual  mechan- 
ics ;  it  is  time  to  consider  the  salient  steps  on  which  most 
Occidental  dancing  is  based,  and  which  the  ballet  has 
reduced  to  perfect  definition. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A   GLANCE  AT   THE   BALLET's   TECHNIQUE 

THE  name  of  Camargo,  which  arose  in  the  first  half 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  may  be  taken  as  the 
milestone  that  marks  the  progress  of  dancing  into 
its  modern  development.  Predecessors  had  brought  to  it 
pleasing  execution  and  a  good  spirit;  Camargo  appears 
to  have  surpassed  them  in  both  qualities,  and,  in  addi- 
tion, to  have  added  immensely  to  the  art's  scope  both  of 
expression  and  of  technique.  Her  relation  to  the  dan- 
cing of  her  time  has  been  profoundly  studied  by  Mme. 
Genee,  whose  fascinating  programme  of  re-creations  is 
the  result.  After  the  work  attributed  to  Salle  and 
Prevost,  that  of  the  re-created  Camargo  shows  a  very 
striking  emancipation  from  former  limitations.  Salle 
and  Prevost,  charmingly  graceful,  consummately  skil- 
ful, performed  their  Dresden-china  steps  evenly,  coolly, 
in  full  conformity  to  the  fastidious  etiquette  of  the 
aristocracy  of  their  day.  Camargo,  without  bruising 
a  petal  of  the  hot-house  flower  that  was  her  artistic  in- 
heritance, first  freed  it  from  a  fungus  of  affectation  that 
others  had  mistaken  for  the  bloom  of  daintiness.  Then 
she  arranged  it  to  show  the  play  of  light  and  shade,  to 
make  it  surprising — in  short,  to  make  it  a  vehicle  of 
interpretation. 

The  material  at  her  disposal,  as  noted  before,  was 
limited.  To  her  advantage  in  "elevation,"  she  replaced 
high-heeled  shoes  with  ballet  slippers ;  she  was  the  first, 

59 


6o  THE  DANCE 

since  antiquity,  to  dance  on  the  toes.  Nevertheless  her 
changes  of  level  were  not  exciting;  of  big  leaps  she  had 
none.  The  day  of  vivid  pirouettes  was  yet  to  dawn. 
Her  most  extended  step  was  a  little  hallone.  Her  entre- 
chat was  almost  the  only  step  that  raised  both  her  feet 
distinctly  off  the  floor;  it,  with  petit s  battements,  gave 
brilliancy  but  nothing  of  grandeur.  Hers  was  a  dance 
of  simple  and  little  steps.  But  they  were  composed, 
those  steps,  with  appreciation  of  the  value  of  contrast. 
By  contrast,  movement  was  made  long  or  short  in  effect. 
Movements  soft  and  crisp  were  juxtaposed.  We  may 
believe  that  Camargo's  knowledge  of  composition  com- 
pensated for  the  meagre  step-vocabulary  of  her  day ;  that 
she  commanded  cumulative  interest,  surprise,  and  cli- 
max. In  short,  that  she  produced  an  expression ;  limited 
to  the  lyrical,  but  none  the  less  real. 

That  there  may  be  no  risk  of  misunderstanding  the 
present  use  of  the  word  "expression,"  let  it  be  agreed 
that  the  word  here  has  the  same  application  that  it  has 
in  relation  to  instrumental  music;  also  let  it  be  agreed 
emphatically  that  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  imitation 
of  nature.  Wagner  makes  a  composition  of  tones  por- 
tray the  attributes  of  heroes  and  gods.  Grieg's  gnomes 
are  of  the  same  tissue:  suggested  attributes  as  distin- 
guished from  specified  facts  of  the  concrete.  Broadly, 
such  suggestion  is  called  music.  For  present  clearness 
let  it  be  known  as  music  of  the  ear.  Because,  the  very 
same  mental  sensations  produced  by  rhythm  and  sound 
variously  juxtaposed  and  combined,  acting  through  the 
medium  of  hearing,  are  susceptible  of  stimulation  by 
means  of  rhythm  and  line,  in  suitable  juxtapositions  and 
combinations,  acting  through  the  medium  of  vision.  It 
follows  that  dancing,  in  effect,  is  music  of  the  eye.    The 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        61 

familiar  musical  resources  serve  both  choreographer 
and  composer  impartially.  As  will  be  understood  be- 
fore the  reading  of  this  chapter  is  completed,  the  equiva- 
lent of  long  and  short  notes  is  found  in  steps  of  varying 
length;  musical  phrases  are,  to  the  mind,  the  same  as 
step-combinations,  or  enchainements ;  argument  toward 
expression  of  motive  is  as  possible  to  the  silent  music 
as  to  music  of  the  ear.  Indeed  the  values  of  the  several 
orchestral  instruments  have  their  parallels  in  steps;  the 
light  staccato  of  the  clarinet  is  no  more  playful  than  are 
certain  delicate  steps  executed  sur  les  pointes,  nor  is  the 
blare  of  brass  more  stirring  than  the  noble  renverse. 
The  scope  of  expression,  in  short,  that  is  attainable  by 
the  orchestra  is  identical  with  that  within  range  of  pure 
dancing — dancing  without  pantomime.  Add  panto- 
mime, and  in  effect  you  add  to  your  music  the  explana- 
tory accompaniment  of  words.  Broadly,  music  is  senti- 
ment, while  the  words  of  a  song  are  supplementary 
description.  In  the  ballet,  the  dance,  as  such,  is  the 
sentiment  (or  its  representation),  the  pantomime  the 
accompanying  description. 

Added  expression  in  this  musical  sense  was  among 
Camargo's  contribution  to  the  art,  definitely  restoring  to 
it  a  quality  it  had  held  in  a  grasp  at  best  precarious  since 
the  passing  of  the  glory  of  Athens.  Belief  in  panto- 
mime rises  and  recedes  from  one  decade  to  another. 
But  purely  orchestral  or  aesthetic  expression  continues  at 
all  times  (with  interruptions)  as  the  fundamental  intent 
of  the  classic  French  and  Italian  ballets.  To  demand 
that  the  figures  in  a  composition  conceived  in  this  idea 
should  act  and  look  like  the  people  of  every-day  life, 
owing  to  the  mere  coincidence  of  their  being  human  be- 
ings, would  be  like  asking  the  composer  of  Pagliacci  to 


62  THE  DANCE 

rewrite  his  score  to  include  the  sound  of  squeaking 
wheels,  because  of  the  latter's  pertinence  to  the  wagon  of 
the  strolling  players  represented  in  the  opera.  The  func- 
tion of  the  composer  of  the  opera  is  to  suggest  by  such 
tonal  symbols  as  have  been  found  effective,  the  various 
emotions  undergone  by  his  characters.  Identically,  the 
function  of  the  ballet-master  is  to  suggest  by  the  count- 
less combinations  of  line — ^majestic  and  playful,  severe 
and  gracious — and  by  the  infinite  variety  of  movements 
and  postures,  the  emotions  he  would  arouse  in  the  spec- 
tators of  his  work.  At  his  disposal  he  has  a  number 
of  plastic,  sentient  and  sympathetic  figures,  trained  to 
movements  of  grace.  They  are  the  instruments  of  his 
orchestra,  the  paint  on  his  palette.  That  they  also  are 
human  beings  is  absolutely  a  coincidence  and  beside  the 
point. 

Pantomime,  to  be  sure,  is  carried  to  a  high  develop- 
ment in  both  French  and  Italian  academies ;  they  present 
mimo-dramas  calling  for  practically  unlimited  scope  of 
expression.  Pantomime  they  added  to  the  dance  with- 
out departure  from  the  ballet's  basic  intent.  Both 
schools  well  know  that  the  introduction  of  one  pose  or 
gesture  imitating  an  act  of  human  life,  automatically 
throws  the  work  into  another  category;  that  which  was 
purely  interpretative  mural  decoration  verges  toward  the 
story-telling  picture. 

The  argument  is  put  rather  insistently  because  of  the 
periodical  complaint  that  the  ballet  "looks  artificial." 
"In  real  life,"  people  say,  "you  never  see  hands  held  as 
they  are  held  in  the  ballet."  Mother  of  all  the  muses, 
why  should  they  be?  In  real  life  hands  are  doctoring 
fountain  pens,  hewing  wood  and  drawing  water,  reach- 
ing out  for  things ;  in  real  life  hands  are  concerned  with 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        63 

their  practical  occupation,  and  quite  disregardful  of  their 
grace  or  expression  while  so  engaged.  Whereas  the 
ballet  uses  hands  as  the  vehicle  for  lines  of  grace,  exalta- 
tion, vivacity,  or  whatever  emotion  you  will,  expressed 
in  terms  of  the  abstract.  It  is  the  same  in  regard  to 
work  on  the  toe:  in  real  life  people  have  no  occasion  to 
walk  on  the  tip  ends  of  their  feet,  because  as  a  means  of 
locomotion  it  is  inconvenient.  The  ballet's  use  of  it  is 
not  based  on  a  belief  in  the  minds  of  ballet-masters  that 
it  is  a  fashion  either  in  polite  society  or  among  nymphs 
of  the  primeval  forest.  The  position  "on  the  point" 
'makes  possible  an  agreeable  change  in  elevation,  and  can 
instantaneously  eliminate  the  appearance  of  avoirdupois. 
The  ballet  art  is  a  convention,  strictly;  the  figures  in  it 
are  changing  units  of  a  moving  design,  and  not  people. 
A  ballerina  does  not  ask,  "How  do  I  look  in  this  pose  ?" 
She  asks,  "What  kind  of  a  line  does  this  pose  make?" 

Of  late  years  the  classic  ballet  has  suffered  from  pub- 
lic indifference.  Doubtless  this  has  been  due  in  part  to 
an  insufficiency  of  competent  performers;  a  great  work 
requires  great  execution,  and  the  difficulties  created  by 
the  ballet's  ideals  are  tremendous.  But  failure  on  the 
part  of  the  public  to  consider  the  ballet's  intent  has  cer- 
tainly contributed  to  an  unsatisfactory  state  of  its  af- 
fairs. 

A  general  acquaintance  with  the  individual  steps  adds 
in  various  ways  to  the  spectator's  enjoyment.  Relieved 
of  effort  to  decipher  a  dancer's  means  and  methods, 
he  who  understands  the  mechanics  of  the  steps  can 
surrender  himself  to  a  luxuriance  in  their  grace  of 
execution,  and  be  the  more  susceptible  to  the  hypnotic 
charm  of  the  rhythmic  movement  playing  upon  his 
eye.     To  him  who  has  taken  the  trouble  to  learn  some 


64  THE  DANCE 

of  the  elemental  theories,  that  which  was  once  a  be- 
wildering maze  of  movement,  which  he  mentally  scram- 
bled to  follow,  becomes  an  ordered  and  deliberate  se- 
quence, whose  argument  he  follows  with  ease ;  instead  of 
a  kaleidoscope,  he  sees  phrasing,  repetition,  and  progress 
of  interest,  theme,  enrichment  and  climax.  With  bits 
of  special  virtuosity  he  is  instantly  gratified;  shortcom- 
ings he  instantly  detects.  To  communicate  his  observa- 
tions he  has  a  vocabulary  of  specific  expression;  and 
there  is  satisfaction  in  that,  for  a  ballet  performance  is 
just  as  fruitful  a  subject  of  controversy  among  its  con- 
noisseurs as  a  new  novel  among  its  readers.  Further- 
more, the  need  of  a  general  power  of  expression  as  an 
essential  to  the  betterment  of  American  choreographic 
conditions  is  self-evident. 

While  the  ensuing  analysis  of  ballet  steps  is  far  from 
complete  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  academy,  it  should 
give  the  reader  a  comprehension  of  the  steps  that  make 
an  impression  on  the  layman's  eye.  The  material  that 
follows  is  selected  with  that  end  in  view.  Some  descrip- 
tion of  simple  fundamentals,  though  not  in  themselves 
"showy,"  is  included  in  order  to  facilitate  analysis  of  the 
great  steps  and  turns.  Moreover,  since  character  dan- 
cing includes  nothing  of  technical  note  that  is  not  also 
used  in  the  ballet,  it  is  confidently  hoped  that  the  sub- 
joined analysis  will  serve  as  a  useful  lens  through  which 
to  look  at  dancing  of  all  kinds. 

Those  whose  interest  in  the  subject  leads  them  to  seek 
a  more  complete  knowledge  are  referred  to  Zorn,  Gram- 
mar of  the  Art  of  Dancing;  by  means  of  his  choreo- 
graphic stenography  he  goes  into  sub-variations  of  bal- 
let steps  with  the  utmost  exactness-  Naturally  a  course 
of  instruction  under  a  good  ballet  teacher  is  best  of  all ; 


Mme.  Adeline  Genee,  and  M.  Alexander  Volinine 

Ballet,  Robert  le  Diable  Butterfly  Dance 

Pierrot  and  Columbine 


PS*  -^  ^^ 


Photos  by  Mishkin,  N.  Y. 

Mme.  Genee  in  Historical  Re-creations  and  M.  Volinine 
Salle  (i)  —  The  Waltz  (2)  —  Camargo  (3)  —  Guimard  (4) 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        65 

theory  is  best  understood  by  its  application.  And  execu- 
tion, it  should  go  without  saying,  is  acquired  only  by 
long  practice  under  expert  and  watchful  eyes. 

Before  considering  actual  movements,  it  must  be  borne 
in  mind  that  separately  they  are  incomplete.  Like  tones 
that  unite  to  form  chords  of  music,  each  in  itself  may 
seem  lacking  in  richness.  Interdependence  of  succes- 
sive parts  is  more  marked  in  the  classic  ballet  than  in 
any  other  great  school  of  choreography.  The  dance  of 
the  Moor  is  a  series  of  statues,  each  self-sufficient.  Of 
the  ballet  movements,  almost  the  reverse  is  true.  Their 
magic  comes  of  the  flow  of  one  unit  into  another. 

As  France  is  the  mother  and  nurse  of  the  ballet,  it 
follows  that  French  is  its  language.  Few  of  the  terms 
translate  successfully.  To  rename  the  movements  would 
be  superfluous — and  in  practical  use,  worse;  for  a  big 
corps  de  ballet  is  often  a  gathering  from  many  nations. 
Being  explicit  and  sufficient,  the  French  terms  are  the 
accepted  designation  of  the  steps  in  all  lands  where  the 
ballet  is  danced. 

To  describe  steps  with  precision,  it  is  necessary  to  use 
a  system  of  choro-stenography  not  easily  learned,  or  to 
refer  to  positions  of  the  feet.  The  latter  is  the  usual 
method,  and  long  usage  proves  its  adequacy.  The  fol- 
lowing arbitrary  designation  of  positions  of  the  feet  has 
long  been  standard  wherever  Occidental  dancing  is 
taught : 

Simple  positions  one  to  five,  inclusive,  are  the  funda- 
mentals, which  are  modified  in  a  great  variety  of  ways. 
Figures  6  and  7  represent  instances  of  such  modifica- 
tion. 

The  weight  may  be  upon  both  feet,  or  either. 

In  third,  fourth  and  fifth  positions :  speaking  of  either 


66 


THE  DANCE 


t=aJ 
34567 
Fundamental  Positions  of  the  Feet. 
Fig.    I,   first   position;    2,    second    position;    3,   third   position;    4,    fourth 
position;  5,  fifth  position;  6,  open  fourth  position;  7,  crossed  fourth 
position. 

foot  (say  the  right)  it  is  said  to  be  in  anterior  or  pos- 
terior third,  fourth  or  fifth  position. 

Second  and  fourth  positions  are  defined  as  closed  or 
amplified,  according  as  the  feet  are  separated  by  the 
length  of  a  foot,  or  more. 

The  positions,  unless  otherwise  specified,  indicate  both 
feet  on  the  floor.  But  the  second,  third  and  fourth  posi- 
tions sometimes  relate  to  positions  in  which  one  foot  is 
raised;  for  instance,  right  foot  in  raised  second  posi- 
tion. 

The  same  designations  apply  whether  the  feet  be  flat 
on  the  floor,  on  the  ball,  on  the  point,  or  a  composite  of 
these :  as  for  instance,  second  position,  right  foot  on  the 
point,  left  foot  flat,  etc. 

Heights  are  definitely  divided;  ankle,  calf  and  knee 
serve  as  the  measures.  But  as  the  subjoined  explana- 
tions are  aided  by  diagrams,  the  terms  to  measure 
heights  may  be  disregarded  for  the  sake  of  simplicity. 
Likewise  we  need  not  go  into  the  enumeration  and 
names  of  crossed  positions  and  other  complications. 
The  five  fundamental  positions,  however,  are  important 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        67 

and  should  be  memorised.  Apart  from  their  importance 
in  any  discussion  of  ballet  work,  familiarity  with  them 
greatly  aids  the  acquisition  of  ballroom  dances.  (The 
latter  place  the  feet  at  an  angle  of  45°  to  the  line  in 
which  the  dancer's  body  faces,  instead  of  90°,  the  form 
of  the  French-Italian  ballet.) 

The  school  of  the  ballet  also  defines  the  positions  of 
the  arms,  in  the  same  manner.  They  need  not  be  mem- 
orised as  a  preliminary  to  reading  this  chapter ;  but  they 
are  interesting  as  a  matter  of  record  of  the  limitations 
of  the  classic  school,  and  as  a  measure  of  the  distance 
to  which  the  Russians  have  departed  in  the  direction  of 
freedom  of  arm  movement. 


13     14        15 

Positions  of  the  Arms. 

Figure  8,  arms  in  repose,  sustained ;  9,  extended ;  10,  rounded  in  front  of 
the  chest;  11,  rounded  above  the  head;  12,  high  and  open;  13,  a  la 
lyre;  14,  on  the  hips;  15,  16,  one  arm  high,  one  extended;  18,  one 
arm  rounded  in  front  of  the  chest,  one  open  horizontal;  17,  19,  one 
arm  high,  one  on  the  hip. 

Steps,  which  are  now  to  be  considered,  fall  naturally 
into  the  classes  of  gliding,  beating,  turning  and  jumping. 
Each  class  ranges  from  simplicity  to  more  or  less  com- 
plexity, and  certain  steps  have  a  composite  character, 
partaking  of  the  nature  of  more  than  one  of  the  above 
general  classes. 

Dancers  distinguish  between  a  step  and  a  temps, 
whose  relation  to  each  other  is  that  between  a  word  and 
a  syllable.     A  temps  is  a  single  movement.     By  defini- 


68  THE  DANCE 

tion,  a  step  must  effect  a  transfer  of  weight ;  subject  to 
that, definition,   a  single  movement  may  be  a  step. 

The  simple  gliding  step  is  the  pas  glisse.  It  is  exe- 
cuted by  gliding  the  foot  along  the  floor.  It  may  move 
in  any  direction.  Used  as  indicated  in  figures  20,  21 
and  22,  the  step  becomes  a  glissade. 


20  21  aa 

"Glissade." 

The  essential  gliding  feature  of  the  step  is  indicated  in  the  movement  of 
the  left  foot  along  the  floor,  figure  21. 


A  chasse,  in  effect,  "chases"  one  foot  from  its  place 
by  means  of  a  touch  from  the  other.  For  instance: 
the  feet  are  in  second  position,  weight  on  the  right  foot ; 
bring  the  left  foot  sharply  up  to  this  position  behind  the 
right  foot;  at,  the  instant  of  contact,  let  the  right  foot 
glide  sharply  out  to  second  position  on  the  right  side. 
The  step  also  may  be  executed  toward  the  front  or 
toward  the  rear.     It  keeps  both  feet  on  the  floor. 

Executing  a  series  of  chasses:  simple  chasses  com- 
mence the  step,  each  repetition,  with  the  same  foot. 
Alternating  chasses  are  begun  with  each  foot  in 
turn. 

A  coupe  is  analogous  to  a  chasse;  but  the  foot  that 
is  displaced  leaves  the  floor  and  goes  to  more  or  less 
height  in  the  air.  Both  coupe  and  chasse  give  an  impres- 
sion of  one  foot  kicking  the  other  out  of  place. 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        69 


23  .     24 

"Assemble." 
See  figure  26. 

An  assemble,  starting  with  the  feet  in  fifth  position, 
effects  a  reversal  of  their  position.  Example  (see  dia- 
gram) :  the  left  foot  is  behind,  A  little  jump  upward 
raises  both  feet  from  the  floor.  Kick  out  with  the  left 
foot  to  the  left,  bring  it  back  to  fifth  position  in  front  of 
the  right  foot,  at  the  moment  of  alighting.  The  right 
foot,  instead  of  the  left,  will  degage,  or  "wing  out,"  in 
the  next  step,  if  the  step  is  repeated. 

A  changement  is  similar  to  an  assemble;  its  difference 
is  in  the  fact  that  it  causes  both  feet  to  "beat." 


7^-. 

-^  N 


26  27 

"AssEMBLi."  "Changement." 

Each  diagram  shows  two  performances  of  its  step.  Both  steps  take  both 
feet  off  the  floor.  In  the  assemble,  one  foot  remains  passive.  In 
the  changement,  both  are  active. 

A  releve  consists  of  a  simultaneous  (a)  rise  to  the  ball 
or  point  of  the  supporting  foot,  while  the  active  foot  is 
raised  to  the  height  (usually)  of  the  knee  of  the  sup- 


70  THE  DANCE 

porting  leg.  The  active  foot  usually  is  kept  close  to  the 
supporting  leg. 

This  step  furnishes  an  interesting  example  of  the 
changes  wrought  by  the  Russians.  The  classic  turn- 
out of  the  foot  confines  the  movement  of  the  active  leg 
to  a  plane  cutting  the  performer  laterally;  i.  e.,  as  the 
classic  performer  advances  en  relevant  toward  the  spec- 
tator, the  legs'  movements  are  seen  to  have  their  exten- 
sion out  to  the  sides.  Whereas  the  Russian  "toes  out" 
(with  exceptions)  at  a  much  smaller  angle.  His  knees 
therefore  may  rise  in  front  of  him;  in  which  case  the 
step,  as  seen  by  the  spectator,  is  most  effective  while  the 
performer  crosses  the  stage  from  side  to  side.  It  is 
made  the  thematic  step  of  some  of  the  new  Russian 
dance-poems  of  Greek  nature.  It  is  executed  sharply, 
lightly. 

An  echappe  moves  the  feet  from  closed  to  second 
position  by  means  of  moving  both  feet  simultaneously 
outward. 


30 

Essentials:   both    feet   oflF  the   floor   simultaneously,   and   receipt   of   the 
descending  weight  on  one  foot. 

The  jete  is  a  step  that  is  simple  in  principle,  at  the  same 
time  subject  to  so  wide  a  range  of  use  that  it  creates 
the  most  varied  effects.  Essentially,  it  is  the  step  that 
is  used  in  running. 

The  jete  also  may  be  executed  to  the  side — a  cote. 


THE  BALLETS  TECHNIQUE        71 

From  its  use  in  that  manner  it  is  easy  to  understand  its 
employment  as  a  means  of  turning  in  the  air :  i.  e.,  with 
both  feet  off  the  floor.  The  jete  en  tournant  is  one  of 
the  much-used  means  of  producing  an  effect  of  big,  easy 
sweep ;  it  lends  itself  to  the  embellishment  of  any  one  of 
several  beating  steps — pas  battus;  or  others,  yet  to  be 
described. 


as  34  35 

"jETf"  TO  THE  Side. 

Of  the  "beating"  type  of  step,  the  fundamental  is  the 
battement:  a  beating  movement  of  the  free  leg,  the  sup- 
porting leg  remaining  stationary.  The  accent  is  not  on 
the  up-stroke,  as  in  a  kick,  but  sharply  on  the  down- 
stroke.  The  beats  may  be  made  from  side,  front,  or 
(less  usually)  back.  The  foot  may  be  raised  to  the 
height  of  the  head  (though  it  is  not  often  done),  to  hori- 
zontal, to  the  height  of  the  knee,  or  the  distance  of  a 
foot's  length  away  from  the  supporting  leg.  Executed 
with  a  straight  knee,  the  movement  is  a  grand  battement. 
A  petit  battement  is  action  of  the  lower  leg  only,  working 
from  the  knee  as  a  stationary  pivot,  while  the  foot  strikes 
the  supporting  ankle,  calf,  or  knee.  It  is  a  movement 
designed  for  brilliancy,  and  should  be  executed  rapidly. 
With  practice  it  can  be  carried  to  such  a  degree  of  speed 
that  the  active  foot  seems  to  shimmer.  It  is  the  basic 
step  of  Scotch  dances.     Modified  to  allow  the  sole  of  the 


72  THE  DANCE 

active  foot  to  touch  the  floor,  it  provides  the  shuffle-step 
of  the  Irish  Jigs  and  Reels.  Petits  hattements,  it  should 
be  added,  are  usually  employed  in  a  sequence  of  several 
in  succession.  ^ 


/ 

38 

"Battements." 
Petit  battement,  37.    Grand  hattement,  38. 

Correctly  speaking,  a  hattement  does  not  constitute  a 
step,  but  a  temps. 

The  cabriole  is  a  development  of  the  battement.  In 
the  latter,  only  one  leg  is  active ;  it  leaves  the  supporting 
leg,  and  rejoins  it.  The  cabriole  is  executed  with  both 
feet  in  the  air;  both  legs  act  in  the  beating  movement, 
rapidly  separating  and  coming  together,  but  not  cross- 
ing. 

A  further  development  of  the  same  theme  brings  us 
to  the  gem  which,  of  the  ballet's  entire  collection,  is  the 
most  dazzling :  the  entrechat.  Instead  of  merely  bring- 
ing the  legs  together,  as  in  the  cabriole,  it  uses  a  jump 
as  the  occasion  for  repeatedly  crossing  the  feet.  Cleanly 
done,  it  is  as  the  sparkle  of  a  humming-bird. 

The  word  is  derived  from  the  Italian  intrecciare,  to 
weave  or  braid.  The  French  compound  it  with  numer- 
als, to  indicate  the  number  of  times  the  feet  cross:  as, 
entrechat-quaire,  entrechat -six,  entrechat-huit.  The 
number  includes  the  movements  of  each  foot;  an  entre- 
chat-huit implies  four  crossings.  Prodigious  stories  are 
told  about  the  number  of  beats  that  various  artists  have 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        73 


accomplished  in  their  entrechat.  It  forms  an  attractive 
centre  for  choreographic  myths.  In  general,  the  num- 
ber of  beats  said  to  have  been  accomplished  by  a  given 
artist  is  in  direct  ratio  to  the  number  of  years  that  artist 
has  been  dead.  In  reality  there  is  small  object  in  going 
beyond  an  entrechat-six;  the  three  crossings  (always 
assuming  performance  by  a  master  of  the  technique)  are 
quite  sufficient  to  prove  that  the  law  of  gravity  has  ceased 
to  exist.     When  their  staccato  twinkle  is  added  as  a  fin- 


^ 


39 


42 


40  41 

Steps  of  the  "Battement"  Type. 
Changement,  39;  entrechat-quatre,  40;  brise  dessus,  41;  brise  dessous,  42. 
In  the  brise  dessus,  the  active  foot  beats  in  front  of  the  passive  foot ; 
in  the  brise  dessous,  behind  it. 

ish  to  the  long  pendulum  swing  of  a  big  glissade,  or  a 
long  jete  en  tournant,  the  effect  is  that  of  a  swift  piz- 
zicato following  a  long-sustained  note — always  surpris- 
ing, always  merry. 

The  brise  is  of  the  category  of  movements  executed 
while  both  feet  are  off  the  floor.  It  is  so  closely  related 
to  the  entrechat-quatre  that  the  layman  who  can  dis- 
tinguish between  the  two,  during  the  speed  of  perform- 
ance, may  conscientiously  congratulate  himself  on  having 
developed  a  passably  quick  and  sure  eye.  The  differ- 
ence between  the  two  lies  in  this :  that  in  the  brise  only 
one  foot  really  "beats";  the  other  makes  only  a  slight 
complementary  or  counter-movement.     Starting  as  it 


74  THE  DANCE 

does  in  an  open  position,  it  lends  itself  to  the  embellish- 
ment of  broad  leaps. 

The  hallone  is,  in  a  broad  sense,  related  to  the  beating 
steps;  its  accent,  however,  is  on  the  up-stroke,  which 
makes  it  a  kick.  Start  in  third  position;  pliez  slightly 
(as  preparation)  ;  jump,  and  simultaneously  kick  for- 
ward, bending  the  knee  in  raising  the  leg,  straightening 
it  when  it  has  reached  the  necessary  height;  usually  the 
hallone  leads  into  another  step. 

(As  this  description  is  at  variance  with  that  of  two 
eminent  choreographic  writers,  it  should  be  added  that 
it  is  made  from  the  step  as  demonstrated  and  explained 
by  Sr.  Luigi  Albertieri,  ballet-master  of  the  Century 
Opera  Company,  an  unquestioned  authority;  his  tradi- 
tions are  those  of  La  Scala,  and  of  Sr.  E.  Cecchetti. 
Mile.  Louise  La  Gai,  former  pupil  of  Leo  Staats,  one- 
time ballet-master  of  I'Opera,  demonstrates  the  step  in 
the  same  manner.) 

A  phrase  of  steps  {enchainement)  is  rarely  made  up 
of  big  or  difficult  steps  exclusively;  the  value  of  the  lat- 
ter would  soon  be  lost  in  monotony  were  they  not  con- 
trasted with  work  of  a  simpler  nature.  The  pas  de 
bourree  and  the  pas  de  Basque  are  among  the  little  steps 
useful  in  furnishing  such  contrasts,  in  giving  the  dancer 
a  renewed  equilibrium,  and  in  the  capacity  of  connecting 
links  between  other  steps.  They  are  like  prepositions 
in  a  sentence — insufficient  in  themselves,  but  none  the 
less  indispensable. 

The  pas  de  bourree  (the  name  is  taken  from  an  old 
French  dance)  is  essentially  the  familiar  polka-step  late 
of  the  ballroom,  with  varied  applications.  Forward, 
backward  or  to  the  side,  it  "covers  stage" — or  gives  the 
dancer  progress  in  a  given  direction.     It  furnishes  a 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        75 

means  of  turning,  or  preserving  the  continuity  of  a  dance 
while  the  performer  keeps  his  place.  Always  it  is  use- 
ful as  a  filler  when  interest  is  to  be  directed  away  from 
the  foot-work — in  such  case,  for  instance,  as  when  the 
hands  have  important  pantomime. 

The  pas  de  Basque  is  of  similar  value,  but  commits  the 
dancer  to  a  swinging  movement  from  side  to  side.  Like 
the  pas  de  bourree  it  is  an  alternating  step,  with  one  foot 
on  the  floor  all  the  time,  and  executed  without  much 
''elevation" — i.  e.,  variety  of  level.  It  runs  through 
many  of  the  dances  of  Spain,  and  presumably  is,  as  its 
name  suggests,  a  native  of  the  Basque  provinces.  Prob- 
ably, too,  it  is  a  remote  ancestor  of  the  Waltz. 


"FoUETTi. 


In  contrast  to  the  sharp,  dry  quality  of  the  beating 
steps  is  the  fluid,  swinging  fouette.  Its  many  variations 
conform  to  the  principles  indicated  in  the  diagram  fig- 
ures 43  to  46. 

The  word  ''fouette"  means  literally,  whip;  the  move- 
ment, a  swing  with  a  snap  at  the  finish,  is  well  named. 
A  relaxed  manner  of  execution  gives  it  a  feeling  of 


76 


THE  DANCE 


pliancy,  while  lightness  is  preserved  by  the  smart  termi- 
nation. 

Start  with  a  plie  of  both  knees,  for  preparation; 
sharply  lift  the  active  leg  sidewise  to  horizontal  (i.  e., 
raised  second  position)  ;  snap  the  lower  leg  back,  in  a 
movement  curving  downward,  to  the  crossed  leg  posi- 
tion in  figure  46.  There  it  is  prepared  to  enter  into 
another  step,  or  to  lead  to  an  arabesque,  or  to  continue 


48  49  50 

Start  of  a  "FouettI:  Pirouette." 
Figures  47-50  inclusive  serve  also  to  describe  a  develop pe. 


to  finish  in  third  or  fifth  position  of  the  feet.     The  body 
has  remained  facing  the  spectator. 

Now,  let  it  be  understood  that  a  pirouette  is  a  turn,  or 
spin,  on  one  foot  only,  or  else  in  the  air.  One  species  of 
pirouette  is  made  in  conjunction  with  the  fouette,  the 
body  being  permitted  to  turn  with  the  impulse  of  the 
leg's  backward  sweep.  The  making  of  a  pirouette,  how- 
ever, requires  its  own  preparations,  as  shown  in  the  first 
four  figures  of  the  diagram.  In  figure  47  the  legs  are 
plies.  Figures  48,  49  and  50  represent  a  developpe, 
or  unfolding — ^a  device  of  frequent  use  in  the  pres- 
ent conditions,  namely,  the  need  of  bringing  the  active 
leg  to  horizontal  in  preparation  for  a  step.     The  exten- 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        77 

sion  of  the  arms  as  indicated  enables  them  to  give  a 
vigourous  start  to  the  revolving  movement ;  the  leg,  by  a 
sharp  sweep  "outward,"  contributes  to  the  same  impulse. 
The  turn  started,  the  fouette  is  executed  as  it  proceeds. 
The  free  foot  drops  to  position  behind  the  supporting 
leg.  But  note  that  as  the  body  continues  turning,  the 
foot  changes  from  position  behind  to  position  in  front; 
very  simple,  in  performance  very  effective — and  until 


SI  52  53 

"FoUETTf  Pirouette,"  Continued. 
Right   leg  sweeps   "out"   in   horizontal   plane    (51)    continuing   as   in   52, 
turning   the   body   with   its    revolution.     As    the    body  completes    the 
turn  from  52  to  53,  the  right  foot  is  brought  to  crossed  position  in 
front  of  the  ankle. 

understood,  puzzling  in  its  illusion  of  winding  up  and 
unwinding.  It  is  permissible,  in  the  position  of  figure 
52,  to  drop  to  the  heel  of  the  supporting  foot,  for  a  mo- 
mentary renewal  of  equilibrium;  but  there  is  merit  in 
going  through  without  that  aid.  The  position  at  finish 
leaves  the  dancer  prepared  to  repeat  the  tour,  which  can 
be  done  an  indefinite  number  of  times  in  succession;  to 
continue  into  an  arabesque  (figures  55,  56) ;  or  to  enter 
a  different  step. 

Among  the  variations  of  the  above  typical  fouette 
pirouette  is  its  execution  "in"  instead  of  "out":  that  is, 
to  sweep  the  active  leg  across  in  front  of  the  supporting 


78 


THE  DANCE 


leg,  to  start  the  turn,  instead  of  raising  it  out  to  the  side. 
Again  using  the  left  foot  as  support,  the  turn  of  the 
body  is  now  toward  the  left,  instead  of  toward  the  right 
as  when  the  step  is  executed  "out."  The  active  foot 
arrives  at  its  position  of  crossing  the  supporting  leg  when 
it  has  described  a  half-circle. 

Tradition  makes  the  fouette  pirouette  a  step  for  men, 
although  it  is  not  intrinsically  less  feminine  than  any 
other  of  the  great  steps.  Nevertheless,  tradition  is  often 
a  thing  to  respect.     So,  a  fouette  pirouette  performed  by 


55  56 

Optioxal  Finish  of  a  "Fouett£  Pirouette." 
Continues   (55)  into  arabesque  (56). 

a  woman  is  customarily  called  a  rond  de  jamhe  tour. 
Mile.  Zambeli,  the  premiere  of  TOpera  in  Paris,  has  on 
occasion  performed  a  succession  of  thirty-two  such  turns 
in  a  steadily  accelerating  tempo.  The  result,  instead  of 
monotony,  is  a  cumulative  excitement  little  short  of  over- 
powering. 

The  fouette  pirouette  leads  into  the  subject  of  pirou- 
ettes in  general.  By  their  common  definition,  they  are 
turns  made  on  one  supporting  foot  only,  or  without  sup- 
port (i.  e.,  turns  in  the  air).     The  definition  serves  to 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        79 


distinguish  a  true  pirouette  from  a  turn  made  by  means 
of  alternating  steps,  such  as  a  pas  bourree  turn. 

The  purest  example  of  pirouette  is  that  performed  "on 
the  crossed  ankle" — sur  le  cou-de-pied.  (Figures  57 
to  61.)  This  turn  is  made  without  the  aid  of  im- 
pulse from  either  leg  after  the  free  foot  goes  into  its 
position,  in  distinction  from  the  fouette  pirouette,  for 
instance,  in  which  the  active  leg's  movement  in  the  air 
furnishes  the  motive  power  by  which  the  body  is  turned. 

The  pirouette  sur  le  cou-de-pied  here  diagrammed  is 


ii 

58  59  60 

The  "Pirouette  Sur  le  Cou-de-pied." 
Figures  57,  58,  59,  preparation ;  60  represents  the  completion  of  the  turn, 
and  the  position  the  feet  have  occupied  during  the  act  of  turning; 
61,  finish. 

according  to  the  specifications  of  Herr  Otto  Stoige,  bal- 
let-master and  dancing  teacher  at  the  University  of 
Konigsberg,  as  quoted  by  Zorn.  Raise  the  arms  and 
the  active  leg  (figure  58).  Drop  the  active  foot  to  ante- 
rior fourth  position  (figure  59),  plie,  and  at  the  same 
time  dispose  the  arms  to  give  the  twisting  impulse  to  the 
body.  The  same  impulse  is  aided  by  the  sharp  straight- 
ening of  the  left  leg,  coming  into  position  as  support. 
The  arms  drop  (figure  60)  as  the  free  foot  is  placed  sur 
le  cou-de-pied  of  the  supporting  leg.  Comparing  the 
finish  (figure  61)  with  figure  57,  it  is  seen  that  the  feet 


8o 


THE  DANCE 


have  resumed  third  position  but  exchanged  places.  In 
making  the  turn,  the  face  is  turned  away  from  the  spec- 
tator as  short  a  time  as  possible. 

The  ability  to  do  a  double  turn  in  this  form  is  not 
rare,  and  a  few  men  make  it  triple.  The  Prussian  Stull- 
mueller  brought  it  to  seven  revolutions.  An  amusing 
conventionality  of  gender  in  pirouettes  makes  it  man's 
prerogative  to  do  the  pirouette  en  I'air — i.  e.,  with 
both  feet  off  the  floor.  This  too  is  doubled  by  some  of 
the  men  now  dancing:  Leo  Staats,  formerly  of  I'Opera 
in  Paris,  is  said  to  triple  it ! 


6a  63  64 

Various  "Pirouettes." 
A  la  seconde,  60;  en  attitude,  61;  en  arabesque,  62. 

A  pirouette  of  this  sort  is  one  of  the  few  pas  that  have 
a  value  independent  of  what  precedes  and  follows;  it  is 
a  beautiful  thing  by  itself.  In  combination  it  gives  a 
feeling  of  ecstasy;  or,  in  other  conditions,  of  happy  ec- 
centricity. A  few  years  ago  Angelo  Romeo  used  it  as 
the  theme  of  his  solo  in  a  Ballet  of  Birds  (under  Fred 
Thompson's  management,  the  New  York  Hippodrome 
staged  some  real  ballets).  As  King  of  the  Birds,  Romeo 
gave  his  part  a  gallantry  at  once  amusing  and  brilliant 
by  the  reiteration  of  double  pirouettes  as  a  refrain. 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        81 

Between  the  two  extremes  of  fouette  pirouette  and 
pirouette  stir  le  cou-de-pied  lie  such  a  variety  of  manners 
of  turning  that  experts  fail  to  agree  on  any  definition  of 
the  word  "pirouette,"  more  explicit  than  the  one  already 
given.  A  half-turn  sur  le  cou-de-pied,  pas  de  bour- 
ree,  and  complete  the  turn  with  a  fouette: — there, 
for  instance,  is  a  turn  that  is  a  pirouette  or  not,  accord- 
ing to  arbitrary  definition.  There  are  half  as  many  sub- 
varieties  of  pirouette  and  other  turns  as  there  are  solo 
dancers.  Turns  of  mixed  type,  partaking  of  the  natures 
of  both  pure  pirouette  and  the  rond  de  jamhe  character 
of  movement,  are  known  collectively  as  pirouettes  com- 
posees. 

A  rond  de  jambe,  it  should  be  explained  parenthetic- 
ally, is  a  circle  described  by  the  foot.  A  grand  rond  de 
jamhe  is  a  circle  (in  any  plane)  described  by  the  straight 
leg.  A  petit  rond  de  jambe  is  made  by  the  lower  leg, 
working  from  a  stationary  knee  as  pivot.  Cf.  grands 
and  petits  battements. 

As  the  pirouette  sur  le  cou-de-pied  has  its  virtue  of 
sparkle,  its  cousin  the  renverse  is  endowed  with  a  species 
of  bewildering,  bacchanalian  ecstasy.  Words  and  dia- 
grams fail  to  convey  an  impression  of  its  qualities ;  but 
analysis  of  its  mechanics  is  worth  while,  in  order  that  it 
may  be  recognised  when  seen,  and  not  allowed  to  pass 
without  yielding  its  full  and  due  pleasure  to  him  who 
sees  it. 

Preceding  the  position  indicated  in  figure  65,  the 
dancer,  placing  his  weight  on  the  left  foot,  has  raised 
the  right  foot  in  a  developpe  forward,  and  around  on  a 
horizontal  plane  "outward."  Figure  65  shows  the  right 
foot  at  a  point  that  may  be  conveniently  designated  as 
the  quarter-circle.     In  figure  66  the  right  foot  continues 


82 


THE  DANCE 


to  sweep  back,  and  the  body  begins  to  lean  forward — or 
away  from  the  active  leg.  This  lean  of  the  body  has  be- 
come more  pronounced  in  figure  67,  in  which  the  active 
foot  has  reached  the  three-quarter  circle.  Note  the 
sweep  of  the  left  hand  accelerating  the  movement  of  the 
turn,  and  its  continuance  through  the  remaining  figures. 


65  66  67 

Beginning  of  the  "Renvers£." 
A  developpe  has  preceded  the  position  in  figure  65,  as  indicated  in  verti- 
cal dotted  line.     The  body  begins  to  turn  as  the  active  foot  completes 
a  half-circle   (66).    In  67,  note  that  the  body  leans  forward. 


Up  to  the  position  in  figure  68  the  body  has  leaned 
forward — or  in  other  words,  has  been  chest  down.  In 
figure  69  it  is  seen  chest  up.  Figure  68  is  the  inter- 
mediate position.  In  performance  the  turn-over  takes 
place  so  quickly  that  only  a  trained  eye  sees  just  when  it 
is  done. 

The  right  foot  touches  the  floor  at  the  point  of  com- 
pleting the  half-circle.  The  body  continues  leaning 
back,  straightening  up  in  figure  70  after  describing  a 
round  body-sweep  started  in  figure  69.  Figure  70  finds 
the  weight  on  the  right  foot;  the  left  is  raised  on  the  first 
temps  of  a  pas  de  hourree,  very  quick,  which  brings  the 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        83 

feet  to  fifth  position  as  in  figure  71.    The  right-hand- 
sweep  upward,  meantime,  has  been  continuous. 

Another  variation  of  the  pirouette  is  based  on  the 
rond  de  jamhe  described  on  a  previous  page.  The  rond 
de  jamhe  pirouette  is  executed  with  the  aid  and  embel- 
lishment of  a  horizontal  leg.  It  usually  starts  with  a 
developpe,  like  the  fouette  tour.  A  pirouette  a  la  seconde 


69  70  71 

The  "Renverse"  Concluded. 
Figures  68  and  69  trace  the  over-turning  of  the  body,  without  interrup- 
tion to  the  movement  of  rotation.    A  rapid  pas  de  bourree  intervenes 
between  70  and  71. 


is  so  called  by  reason  of  the  active  foot's  continuance  in 
raised  second  position.  If  the  heel  is  touched  at  the 
half-circles  for  equilibrium,  the  turns  can  be  continued 
ad  libitum.  Still  another  tour  is  the  pirouette  en  ara- 
besque, the  pose  being  entered  into  (usually)  on  comple- 
tion of  a  half-circle  of  a  rond  de  jamhe  tour,  the  revolu- 
tion being  kept  continuous  while  the  necessary  changes 
are  made  in  the  position  of  the  body.  A  turn  in  the  air 
that  may  be  included  among  pirouettes  is  a  jete  en 
tournant;  and  it  may  be  adorned  with  an  entrechat,  a 
hrise,  or  whatever  "beats"  may  suit  the  artist's  taste  and 
abilities. 


84 


THE  DANCE 


The  words  "arabesque"  and  ''attitude"  do  not  refer  to 
steps,  but  to  postures.  Their  composition  is  as  exactly 
defined  as  that  of  any  step.  Figure  56  shows  a  typical 
arabesque. 

The  developpe  above  referred  to  is  a  usual  means  of 
bringing  a  leg  to  horizontal,  as  a  preliminary  to  fur- 


J       r^V 


72  73 

Two  Forms  of  "Attitude." 
Open   (ouverte)   72;  crossed    (croise)   73.    The  position  of  the  support- 
ing leg  is  the  same  in  both. 

ther  work.  It  is  the  opening  step  of  many  a  dance-poem, 
and  a  pretty  accurate  index  of  the  class  of  work  to  fol- 
low. If  the  leg  rises  without  hurry  or  faltering,  and 
unfolds  with  its  proper  sense  of  proud  elegance;  if  al- 
ways the  body  keeps  the  serene  relaxation  that  accom- 
panies only  the  perfection  of  equilibrium,  there  is  com- 
ing a  feast  for  the  gods.  Far  from  the  least  of  Genee's 
manifestations  of  virtuosity  is  the  legato  poise  of  her  en- 
trance stepping  down  from  a  picture  frame :  so  deliberate 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        85 

and  even  is  her  developpe  that  the  eye  at  first  fails  to 
discern  movement,  as  though  it  were  watching  the  open- 
ing of  a  morning  glory.  Never  the  twitch  of  a  muscle, 
pever  an  impulse  of  hurry,  never  the  suspicion  of  hesi- 
tation— through  bar  after  bar  of  music,  the  ethereal  one 
makes  that  first  step  reverence-compelling  in  its  incred- 
ible beauty  of  movement. 

Analogous  to  the  developpe  in  execution  is  the  pas  de 
cheval,  the  latter,  however,  serving  to  change  the  dan- 
cer's place  on  the  floor.  It  is  proud,  strong,  triumphant ; 
used  in  an  advance  of  a  corps  de  ballet  toward  the  spec- 
tator, the  motive  of  dominance  is  strongly  felt.  Though 
effective,  it  is  not  one  of  the  structural  parts,  like  the 
steps  heretofore  described.  It  is,  rather,  a  decorative 
unit  superadded.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  pas 
de  chat,  which  is  a  jerky,  short  and  very  rapid  simple 
alternating  step;  bending  the  knees  sharply,  but  not 
bringing  them  high;  the  feet  crossing  at  each  step.  It 
is  not  the  physical  locomotion  of  a  cat,  but  it  is  a  good 
interpretation  of  the  spirit  of  an  especially  capricious 
one.  It  expresses  well  the  idea  of  witchcraft  or  mis- 
chievous spirits. 

Going  to  the  extreme  contrast  of  this  step,  a  fortissimo 
effect  is  attained  by  the  male  dancer's  form  of  extended 
jump.  It  is  necessarily  high;  but  it  emphasises  espe- 
cially its  effect  of  length  horizontally.  (See  figures  74 
and  75.)  Auguste  Vestris,  the  eighteenth-century  vir- 
tuoso, owed  a  part  of  his  reputation  to  his  power  in 
this  step ;  "suspended  in  the  air"  was  the  phrase  attach- 
ing to  his  performance  of  it.  Its  function  is,  in  great 
part,  to  astonish.  Women  accomplish  its  effect  with  the 
aid  of  a  supporting  man ;  the  change  of  level  attained  by 
this  leap  aided  by  a  "lift"  is  indeed  a  harmonised  ex- 


86 


THE  DANCE 


plosion,  especially  if  it  follows  an  arrangement  of  little 
steps. 

Stories  of  the  impression  created  by  Vestris'  leap 
would  be  quite  incredible  were  their  possibility  not  con- 
firmed in  our  own  time.  In  Scheherazade  Volinine 
jumped  a  distance  that  seemed  literally  more  than  half 
the  width  of  a  big  stage.  An  illusion,  of  course.  The 
world's  record  in  the  broad  jump  is  less  than  twenty- 
five  feet,  and  the  broad  jumper's  covered  distance  does 
not  look  so  impressive  in  actuality  as  it  does  on  paper,  at 


.^/ 


74  75 

Mechanism  of  Broad  Jump. 

As  the  body  descends,  the  advanced  leg  and  arm  are  raised,  producing 

the  illusion  of  sustained  horizontal  flight. 

that.  Whereas  the  dancer's  leap  seems  to  be  under  no 
particular  limit — when  adequately  performed,  which  is 
rare.  Being  typical  of  the  trickery  by  which  dancing 
plays  with  the  eye,  it  may  be  worth  analysing. 

The  magic  is  based  on  two  illusions.  First,  horizontal 
lines  are  insisted  upon  and  preserved  as  continuous; 
while  lines  not  horizontal  are  ^'broken  up"  into  short 
lengths,  to  the  end  that  they  make  comparatively  little 
impression  on  the  eye.  The  pose  itself,  then,  is  hori- 
zontal, which  practically  coincides  with  the  direction  of 
the  dancer's  flight.     Every  one  has  seen  the  experiment 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        87 

of  apparently  shortening  one  of  two  equal  pencil  lines  by 
means  of  cutting  short  lines  across  it :  the  converse  of  the 
same  principle  governs  the  jump.  As  the  pencil  line 
was  shortened  by  cross  lines,  the  jump  is  lengthened  by 
long  lines  parallel  to  its  direction. 

As  the  dancer  passes  the  top  of  his  flight,  the  second 
illusion  begins  to  go  into  effect.  Contradicting  the 
eye's  observation  of  the  gradual  descent  of  the  body,  the 
long  lines  of  the  artist's  arms  and  legs  are  steadily  raised 
to  point  more  and  more  upward.  Be  the  reason  what- 
ever it  may,  the  spectator  is  much  less  conscious  of  the 
body's  descent  than  of  the  level — or  even  rising — direc- 
tion of  those  long  lines ;  lines  which,  by  the  time  the  step 
is  half  completed,  have  come  to  appear  a  good  deal  longer 
than  they  are.  The  dancer  lowers  his  foot  just  in  time 
to  alight  properly.  The  eye  meantime  has  been  so  im- 
pressed by  the  sweep  of  horizontals  that  it  conveys  to 
the  mind  an  agreeably  exaggerated  statement  of  the 
length  of  leap  they  represent.  Also  it  probably  has  been 
so  puzzled  that  its  owner,  unless  he  knows  something  of 
dancing,  has  failed  to  catch  the  value  of  the  step  as  a 
thing  of  beauty. 

Reasonable  familiarity  with  the  foregoing  descriptions 
of  steps  will,  it  is  hoped,  enable  the  reader  to  look  at  great 
dancing  with  the  added  joy  that  comes  of  intelligent 
sympathy  with  the  ballet's  intent  as  decoration,  as  well 
as  insight  into  its  technical  means.  The  resume  of  steps 
includes  the  ballet's  fundamentals.  Each  step  has  its 
variations,  as  has  been  suggested ;  some  of  the  variations 
diverge  far  enough  from  the  basic  step  to  have  earned  a 
special  designation.  For  the  sake  of  simplicity,  the  spe- 
cial names  of  subvarieties  of  steps  have  been  eliminated 
from  this  little  discussion;  but  not  at  the  sacrifice  of 


88  THE  DANCE 

anything  that  a  well-informed  connoisseur  of  the  ballet 
need  know. 

It  is  a  subject  whose  study  is  accompanied  by  the  sat- 
isfaction that  time  spent  on  it  is  not  being  frittered  away 
on  an  affair  of  a  day.  Some  of  the  steps  are  coeval  with 
the  earliest  graphic  records  of  social  life;  Emmanuel  (La 
Danse  Grecque  Antique)  has  made  a  fascinating  book 
showing  the  use  of  many  present-day  ballet  steps  (in- 
cluding "toe-work")  by  the  figures  on  early  Greek 
ceramics,  carvings,  etc.  Various  ages  have  added  to  the 
vocabulary  of  choreographic  material;  the  national 
academies  of  France  and  Italy  have  preserved  that  which 
is  contributory  to  their  ideals  of  almost  architectural 
style,  and  rejected  that  which  lacks  form,  even  though 
expressive.  The  tours  and  pas  of  which  ballet  eloquence 
is  composed,  therefore,  represent  a  selection  based  on 
generations  of  careful  and  accurately  recorded  experi- 
ment in  the  interest  of  pur^  beauty.  The  designation 
"classic,"  attached  to  French  and  Italian  ballets,  is  in 
all  ways  correct  and  deserved.  The  watchful  care  of 
guardians  keeps  both  schools  aloof  from  passing  caprices 
of  the  public,  and  uncorrupted  by  vulgar  fashions. 
There  is  a  present  and  growing  movement  toward  nat- 
uralistic pantomime — a  mode  combining  with  popularity 
enough  intrinsic  good  to  occasion  anxiety  lest  the  classic 
ballet  perish  under  its  momentum.  In  reply  to  which 
let  it  be  emphasised  at  this  point  that  the  old  schools 
never  have  failed  to  incorporate  the  good  of  whatever  has 
offered;  whereas  that  which  was  not  of  intrinsic  value 
always  has  passed  away  through  its  own  lack  of  aesthetic 
soundness.  The  Russian  academy  bases  its  technique 
on  the  French-Italian,  and  insists  on  it  rigourously  as  a 
groundwork;  Madame  Pavlowa's  practice  is  conducted 


Classic  Ballet  Positions 
Mile.  Louise  La  Gai 


Typical  moments  in  a  renverse  (i,  2,  3,  4,  5) — Starting  a  developpe  (6)  —  Progress 
of  a  Rond  de  jambe  (7,  8,  9)  —  {Continued) 


L  ■ 


Classic  Ballet  Positions  {Continued) 

Rond  de  jambe  (lo)  —  Jete  tour  (i  i)  —  Pas  de  bourree  (12)  —  Preparation  for  a 
Pirouette  (13)  ^  Position  sur  la  pointe  (14) — A  fouette  tour,  inward  (15)  — 
A  cabriole  a  derricre  (16)  —  Descent  from  an  entrechat  (17)  — An  arabesque  (18) 


To  face  oape  So 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        89 

daily  under  the  eye  of  her  ItaHan  maestro,  Ceccetti. 
Lydia  Lopoukowa,  Alexander  Volinine — perfect,  both, 
in  academic  form ;  their  romantic  pantomime  is  an  addi- 
tion, not  a  corruption.  These  are  among  the  great 
artistic  intelligences  in  the  new  Russian  movement. 
Meantime  arises  a  horde  of  beings  possessed  of  "soul," 
"God-given  individuality,"  "natural  and  unhampered 
grace,"  boasting  of  their  self-evident  innocence  of  all 
instruction.  These  last  constitute  the  tidal  wave  that 
excites  alarmists,  on  behalf  of  the  classic  ballet ! 

No  less  subject  to  rule  and  form  than  steps  and  their 
elements  is  choreographic  composition.  Steps  are 
phrased  and  phrases  repeated,  exactly  as  in  music.  By 
the  same  formality  of  construction,  each  movement  of 
the  composition  is  dominated  by  a  fixed  theme.  Suppose 
an  entrance  is  in  the  coquettish  mood :  it  is  not  unlikely 
that  the  ballet-master  will  elect  to  interpret  that  mood 
by  whirls — in  other  words,  the  horizontal  circle.  The 
girl  may  approach  the  man  in  a  wide  pique  tour  (a  stage- 
covering  circle,  the  dancer  picking  her  steps  with  empha- 
sised daintiness),  elude  his  grasp  by  means  of  a  series 
of  rapid  pas  de  bourree  turns,  and  perhaps  finally  spin 
into  his  arms  at  the  finish  of  a  pirouette.  Everything  is 
kept  in  turns,  and  in  little  vivacious  steps ;  no  great  ele- 
vation, no  open  or  sweeping  movements ;  nothing  of  the 
glorious,  everything  to  secure  daintiness.  Again,  the 
same  motive  might  be  rendered  in  quite  another  way, 
namely,  by  short  advances,  retreats  and  steps  to  the  side. 
The  passage  might  start  with  a  series  of  releves — quick, 
sharp  rises  to  the  toe,  the  free  foot  crossing  to  pose  in 
front  of  the  ankle  of  the  supporting  foot,  after  describing 
(each  step)  a  petit  battement  en  avant;  short,  crisp, 
dainty  movements,  all.     In  this  group  might  appropri- 


90  THE  DANCE 

ately  be  included  pas  de  bourree  dessus-dessous  (i.  e.,  in 
front  and  behind)  ;  glissades;  petit s  battements;  and  the 
deviHsh-looking  little  pas-de-chat.  In  the  same  en- 
chainement  might  easily  be  grouped  the  entrechat.  All 
these  steps  may  unite  in  a  similarity  of  action:  slight 
elevation,  and  a  short,  saucy  movement  in  which  the 
horizontal  direction  predominates. 

If  the  mood  to  be  expressed  were  the  triumphant,  its 
interpretation  might  begin  with  a  series  of  pas  de  cheval. 
With  this  the  ballone  and  a  rond  de  jambe  finishing  en 
arabesque  would  unite  coherently,  their  movements  all 
being  based  on  the  general  form  of  an  arch. 

To  multiply  instances  of  arrangement  by  theme  is 
needless.  A  ballet-master  would  admit  a  greater  va- 
riety of  steps  together  in  sequence  than  the  foregoing 
paragraphs  indicate;  whirling  dervishes  produce  an  ef- 
fect by  turns  alone.  The  instances  are  given  with  view 
only  to  emphasising  the  principle  of  theme  unity.  What 
is  not  obvious  to  him  who  never  has  seen  the  horrible 
example  of  lack  of  observance  of  this  principle  is,  that 
it  is  not  an  arbitrary  convention,  but  a  fundamental 
necessity.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  good  execu- 
tion completely  wasted  in  a  helter-skelter  throwing  to- 
gether of  steps  that  lead  to  nothing.  Cumulative  devel- 
opment— with  adornment  but  not  digression — along  a 
certain  line,  will  coax  the  spectator  into  a  mood  of  full 
sympathy  with  the  performance.  But  a  series  of  un- 
related turns,  jumps  sidewise  and  up  in  the  air,  entre- 
chats and  kicks,  bears  about  the  same  relation  to  choreo- 
graphic argument  as  a  cat's  antics  on  the  keyboard  of 
a  piano  does  to  the  work  of  a  musician. 

It  will  of  course  be  understood  that  the  ballet-mas- 
ter's problem  is  complicated  by  requirements  and  limi- 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        91 

tations  not  even  touched  upon  in  this  work.  Conform- 
ity to  his  accompanying  music,  for  instance,  is  alone  a 
matter  of  careful  study.  In  former  generations,  before 
the  present  relative  importance  of  music,  the  musical 
composer  followed  the  scenario  of  the  ballet,  which  was 
composed  first  and  independently.  Nowadays — owing 
to  causes  as  to  which  speculation  is  free — the  procedure 
is  reversed.  The  ballet-master  must  not  only  follow 
phrasing  as  it  is  written ;  he  must  move  his  people  about 
the  stage  in  felicitous  group  evolutions,  basing  their  steps 
on  a  fixed  number  of  musical  bars  and  beats.  This  re- 
quirement disposed  of,  he  should  interpret  the  music's 
changing  moods  with  appropriate  steps.  Taking  as  an 
example  a  bit  of  the  Ballet  of  the  Hours  in  Gioconda: 
the  music  of  the  hours  before  dawn  is  largo  and  dreamy, 
breaking  into  a  sparkling  allegro  as  the  light  comes,  in- 
creasing in  speed  and  strength  until  a  forte  tells  of  the 
full-fledged  new  day.  There  are  steps  and  combinations 
to  render  these  motives  with  the  utmost  expressiveness. 
Failure  to  employ  them  does  not  represent  lack  of  com- 
petence on  the  part  of  the  director,  so  often  as  it  does 
inadequacy  of  the  human  material  at  his  disposal.  In 
America,  at  present,  the  task  of  producing  effects  with 
people  whose  incapability  he  must  conceal  is  perhaps  the 
most  serious  embarrassment  the  ballet-master  has  to 
face. 

The  dancer's  supreme  virtue  is  style.  If,  beginning 
as  a  naturally  graceful  youngster,  he  has  been  diligent 
for  from  four  to  seven  years  in  ballet  school,  he  will 
have  it ;  some  acquire  it  by  study  alone.  With  practice 
from  two  to  four  hours  every  morning,  and  half  an 
hour  to  an  hour  before  each  performance,  he  is  likely  to 
keep  it.     What  style  is,  is  not  for  words  to  define.     To 


92  THE  DANCE 

preserve  mathematical  precision  in  a  series  of  definitely 
prescribed  movements,  while  executing  those  movements 
with  the  flowing  sweep  of  perfect  relaxation;  to  move 
through  the  air  like  a  breeze-wafted  leaf,  and  alight  with 
a  leaf's  airiness ;  to  ennoble  the  violence  of  a  savage  with 
a  demi-god's  dignity ;  to  combine  woman's  seductiveness 
with  the  illusiveness  of  a  spirit — these  things  are  not 
style,  but  the  kind  of  thing  that  style  makes  possible,  the 
magic  results  from  the  perfect  co-ordination  of  many 
forces,  both  aesthetic  and  mechanical.  Some  of  the  lat- 
ter, as  to  theory,  are  readily  enough  understood. 

Of  the  ballet  dancer's  ever-surprising  defiance  of  the 
law  of  gravity,  the  more  obvious  means  are  the  plie,  to 
soften  a  descent,  and  a  manner  of  picking  up  the  weight 
so  quickly  that  the  body  seems  buoyant.  Of  perhaps 
no  less  value,  though  not  so  obvious,  is  the  straight 
knee.  To  the  eye  it  gives  a  sensation  of  sure  archi- 
tectural support — doubtless  through  the  suggestion  of 
a  column.  The  mechanical  importance  of  the  straight 
supporting  knee  is  no  less  than  the  aesthetic,  since  a 
firm  foundation  is  essential  to  perfect  control  of  body, 
arms  and  head.  When  the  knee  "slumps,"  the  usual 
consequence  is  a  softened  back  and  a  collapsed  chest. 
The  muscles  of  the  body  "let  down,"  the  fine,  hy- 
persensitive control  of  head  and  arms  is  gone.  Crisp 
movement  being  impossible  to  them  without  a  sound, 
springy  body  as  a  base  to  work  on,  the  work  becomes 
monotonous  and  soggy. 

The  theory  of  a  straight  supporting  axis  applies  also 
to  the  foot  as  soon  as  it  rises  sur  la  pointe.  The  foot  of 
Madame  Pavlowa  en  arabesque  (see  reproduction  of 
her  photograph)  illustrates  the  principle.  Mechanically, 
there  is  definite  advantage  in  an  absolutely  vertical  sup- 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        93 

port;  while  the  spectator's  visual  impression  asserts 
without  hesitation  that  the  figure  above  the  foot  is  with- 
out weight  whatever.  The  superb  line  of  the  ankle, 
continuous  in  sweep  over  the  instep,  is  not  the  least  of 
the  wonders  of  what,  if  one  were  writing  in  Spanish, 
one  could  without  extravagance  refer  to  as  "that  little 
foot  of  gold." 

It  should  not  in  the  least  modify  admiration  of  this 
superlative  bit  of  technique  to  dispel  the  not  uncommon 
belief  that  rising  on  the  toes  is  a  cause  of  physical  tor- 
ment, a  feat  requiring  extraordinary  strength,  or  in  it- 
self an  achievement  to  insist  upon.  Quite  the  contrary. 
Like  every  other  position  in  the  dance,  any  half-trained 
performer  or  student  can  get  it,  all  except  the  quality. 
As  soon  as  a  pupil  has  acquired  the  equilibrium  that 
ought  to  precede  toe-work,  the  necessary  muscular  de- 
velopment has  taken  care  of  itself,  as  a  general  rule; 
and  she  takes  position  on  the  point  without  special  effort. 
Help  is  given  the  foot  by  the  hard-toe  slipper,  combining 
as  it  does  the  support  of  a  well-fitted  shoe  with  a  square, 
blunt  toe.  The  latter,  though  of  small  area,  furnishes 
some  base  to  stand  on.  Stiffening  in  the  fore-part  of 
the  shoe  protects  the  toes  against  bruising  in  the  descent 
from  leaps. 

Position  on  the  point  justly  claims  attention  as  an 
acrobatic  wonder,  when  it  is  taken  barefooted.  And 
a  dancer  who,  barefooted,  can  perform  steps  on  the  point, 
supporting  herself  easily  with  one  foot  off  the  floor,  is 
simply  hyper-normal  in  strength  of  ankles,  feet,  and  legs. 
Miss  Bessie  Clayton  is  such  a  one,  and  very  likely  the 
only  one.  It  is  a  feat  whose  absence  from  formal  dan- 
cing is  not  felt,  though  its  use  would  be  effective  in  some 
of  the  re-creations  of  Greek  work.     There  is  evidence 


94  THE  DANCE 

that  the  early  Greeks  practiced  it,  as  before  noted.  In 
our  own  times,  there  is  only  one  instance,  among  the 
stories  ever  heard  by  the  authors,  of  barefoot  work  on 
the  point  being  done  in  public;  and  that  performance, 
oddly  enough,  took  place  in  precedent-worshipping 
Spain.  The  occasion  was  one  of  those  competitions 
that  Spaniards  love  to  arrange  when  two  or  more 
good  dancers  happen  to  play  the  same  town  at  the 
same  time.  Tremendous  affairs;  not  only  does  rivalry 
approach  the  line  of  physical  hostilities  among  the  spec- 
tators, but  the  competition  draws  out  feats  of  special 
virtuosity  that  the  dancers  have  practiced  secretly,  in 
anticipation  of  such  contingencies.  La  Gitanita  (the 
Little  Gipsy),  one  of  the  competitors  in  the  event  re- 
ferred to,  had,  for  some  years,  put  in  a  patient  half-hour 
a  day  on  the  ends  of  her  bare  toes,  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  any  but  the  members  of  her  family.  When, 
therefore,  at  the  coming  of  her  turn  in  the  competition, 
she  threw  her  shoes  to  the  audience,  and  her  stockings 
behind  a  wing,  and  danced  a  copla  of  las  Sevillanas  on 
the  point,  the  contest  was  settled.  Most  of  the  specta- 
tors never  had  heard  even  of  the  existence  of  such  a 
thing  as  toe-work,  because  it  does  not  exist  in  Spanish 
dancing.  The  experience  to  them  was  like  witnessing 
a  miracle;  so  it  happens  that  La  Gitanita,  many  years 
dead,  is  still  talked  of  when  Spanish  conversation  turns 
to  incredible  feats  of  dancing. 

With  such  rare  exceptions  as  the  above,  however,  the 
person  who  is  happy  in  seeing  difficulties  overcome  is 
best  repaid  by  watching  the  manner  instead  of  the  mat- 
ter. There  is  hardly  a  step  but  can  be  floundered 
through,  if  real  execution  be  disregarded.  The  difficul- 
ties that  take  years  to  master,  that  keep  the  front  rank 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        95 

thin,  are  those  of  nobility,  ease  and  precision  of  action. 
Naturally,  it  is  harder  to  preserve  these  qualities  through 
a  renverse  than  in  a  pas  de  Basque;  but  there  is  no  merit 
in  exhibiting  a  renverse  badly  done.  The  latter  is  a 
pertinent  instance  of  things  difficult  to  do  well.  A  fou- 
ette  tour  "inward"  is  not  safely  attempted  by  any  but  the 
most  skilful ;  nor  is  either  a  fouette  or  a  rond  de  jamhe, 
finishing  in  arabesque.  To  keep  the  movement  con- 
tinuous, imperceptibly  slowing  it  down  as  the  arabesque 
settles  into  its  final  pose,  requires  ability  of  a  rare  grade. 

As  the  little  alternating  steps  furnish  the  means  of 
regaining  equilibrium  after  a  big  pas  or  tour,  it  follows 
that  their  elimination  from  an  enchainement  represents 
a  tour  de  force.  This  is  especially  true  if  the  big  steps 
be  taken  at  a  slow  tempo  (as  an  adagio,  so  called) ;  and 
difficulties  are  compounded  if  the  artist  performs  the 
entire  adagio  on  the  point.  Few  there  are  in  any  gen- 
eration who  can  attempt  such  a  flight. 

But  there  are  many  qualities  justly  to  be  demanded  of 
any  artist  who  steps  before  an  audience.  Crisp,  straight- 
line  movements  should  be  cleanly  differentiated  from  the 
soft  and  flowing.  An  entrechat  not  as  sharp-cut  as  a 
diamond  represents  incompetent  or  slovenly  workman- 
ship. The  same  applies  to  other  steps  of  the  staccato 
character — as  battements,  brises,  pirouettes  sur  le  cou- 
de-pied.  Each  dancer  rightly  has  his  own  individuality ; 
and  the  movements  of  one  will  be  dominated  by  a  liquid 
quality,  while  another's  will  be  brilliant,  or  "snappy." 
But  a  dancer  who  is  truly  an  artist  has,  within  his  scope, 
a  good  contrast  between  the  several  types  of  movement. 
Lack  of  such  contrast  may  cause  a  sense  of  monotony 
even  in  very  skilful  work.  Elevation  also  is  important 
in  preserving  a  sense  of  variety.     Not  only  plie  and 


96  THE  DANCE 

rise  are  made  to  serve;  raisings  of  the  arms  add  im- 
mensely to  the  sense  of  vertical  uplift  when  height  is 
sought. 

A  certain  conformity  to  geometrical  exactness  is  nec- 
essary to  the  satisfaction  of  the  spectator's  eye,  and  is 
observed  by  all  but  the  incompetent.  Not  that  movement 
should  be  rigid — very  much  to  the  contrary.  "Geom- 
etry" is  a  sinister  word;  interpreted  in  a  sense  in  which 
it  is  not  meant,  it  would  be  misleading.  An  example  is 
sometimes  clearer  than  attempted  definitions  or  descrip- 
tions. 

If,  having  given  an  order  for  a  grandfather's  clock, 
the  recipient  found  on  delivery  that  it  did  not  stand  quite 
straight,  he  would  be  annoyed.  Suppose  then  that  fur- 
ther observation  revealed  that  the  face  of  the  clock  was 
not  in  the  middle,  that  the  centre  of  the  circle  described 
by  the  hands  was  not  the  centre  of  the  face,  that  the  face 
was  no  more  than  an  indeterminate  approximation  of  a 
circle,  and  that  the  numerals  were  placed  at  random  in- 
tervals ;  the  eye  of  the  clock's  owner  would  be  offended. 
Various  aesthetic  and  psychological  arguments  might  be 
applied  to  the  justification  of  his  feeling,  but  they  are 
not  needed.  The  futility  of  near-circles,  approximate 
right  angles  and  wobbly  lines  is  felt  instinctively.  Yet 
the  eye  rejoices  in  the  "free-hand"  sweep  of  line  correct 
in  placement,  though  not  subjected  to  the  restrictions  of 
straight-edge  and  compass.  Asking  for  acceptance  in 
such  sense  of  the  terms  "geometrical"  and  "precision," 
we  may  return  to  our  discussion  of  the  ballet. 

The  decorative  iniquity  of  the  hypothetical  clock  at- 
taches to  all  dancing  that  fails  to  give  to  precision  the 
most  rigourous  consideration.  The  imaginary  circle  de- 
scribed in  a  pirouette,  for  example,  is  divided  into  halves 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        97 

and  quarters.  Let  us  suppose  the  pirouette  to  end  in 
arabesque,  stopping  on  the  half -circle,  bringing-  the  dan- 
cer in  profile  to  the  audience :  a  very  few  degrees  off  the 
half-circle  are,  from  the  ballet-master's  point  of  view, 
about  of  a  kind  with  a  few  centimetres  separating  the 
misplaced  clock  hands  from  their  proper  situation  in  the 
centre  of  the  dial.  The  petit  rond  de  jambe  has  its  imag- 
inary quarter  of  the  great  circle  in  which  to  play,  and 
which  it  must  fill.  In  a  fouette,  the  sweep  of  the  foot 
starts  at  the  quarter-circle  (marked  by  an  imaginary  lat- 
eral plane  through  the  dancer's  body),  and  reaches  back 
just  to  the  half-circle  (defined  by  a  similar  plane,  drawn 
longitudinally).  The  lateral  elevations  of  the  legs  are 
likewise  subject  to  law,  the  imaginary  vertical  circle 
described  by  the  leg  as  radius  being  divided  into  eights, 
to  allow  the  leg  to  use  the  angle  of  forty-five  degrees; 
experience  shows  that  this  diagonal,  half  a  right  angle, 
is  pleasing  to  the  eye  and  not  disturbing  to  the  senses. 

The  hands  and  forearms  are  turned  in  such  a  way  as 
to  eliminate  elbows,  the  coincidence  of  a  contour  of  the 
arm  with  an  arc  of  a  big  (imaginary)  circle  being  al- 
ways sought. 

The  convention  of  "toeing  out"  has  as  an  object  the 
showing  of  ankles  and  legs  to  the  best  advantage.  On 
the  flat  foot  the  advantage  is  not  so  apparent ;  but  experi- 
ment shows  that  pointing  out  and  down  greatly  helps 
the  appearance  of  a  foot  in  the  air.  The  supporting  foot 
and  leg  also  show  the  benefit  of  the  device  as  soon  as  the 
dancer  rises  to  the  ball  of  the  foot  or  the  point.  More- 
over, it  is  obvious  that  the  pointing  of  a  supporting  foot 
forward  would  necessitate  changes  from  the  classic  form 
of  many  steps. 

Recent  years  have  brought  out  a  volume  of  protest 


98  THE  DANCE 

to  the  effect  that  the  classic  ballet's  restriction  of  move- 
ment too  severely  limits  expression.  The  protest  is 
right  or  wrong  according  to  point  of  view,  and  point  of 
view  is  a  matter  of  historical  period.  The  French  school 
comes  to  us  from  a  time  when  men  kissed  hands  and 
drew  swords  in  exact  accordance  with  accepted  forms, 
and  the  favoured  house-decoration  was  a  tapestry  de- 
signed on  lines  purely  architectural.  The  present  is  a 
moment  of  much  concern  about  freedom  of  the  individ- 
ual, and  its  expression.  Curiosity  is  at  boiling-point. 
Narrative  is  sought.  We  want  something  to  happen, 
all  the  time.  And  those  who  fail  to  see  the  actual  oc- 
currence want  the  story  of  it  to  be  graphic.  Moving 
pictures  are  very  satisfying  to  the  majority.  Acres  of 
popular  pictures  are  painted  in  boisterous  disregard  of 
order  or  harmony  of  line  and  form.  It  would  be  very 
pleasant  for  those  who  enjoy  optical  beauty,  if  public 
taste  required  beauty  as  a  first  requisite  for  popularity. 
Nevertheless,  popular  pictures  as  they  are  do  no  partic- 
ular harm,  probably,  either  to  those  who  like  them  or  to 
those  who  do  not. 

But,  if  the  world's  great  and  beautiful  mural  decora- 
tions were  suddenly  painted  over  with  frenzied  or  senti- 
mental illustrations,  to  "modernise"  them,  it  would  be 
a  different  matter.  That  little  public  to  whom  beauty 
is  as  a  necessary  sustenance — ^by  coincidence  the  same 
public  that  includes  the  leaders  of  thought  in  each  gen- 
eration— would  have  a  good  deal  to  say  in  the  line  of 
objection  to  such  desecration.  Now,  the  ballet  is  essen- 
tially a  mural  decoration,  potentially  very  great  in  power 
to  exalt.  If  a  large  element  should  have  its  way,  the 
next  few  years  would  see  that  decoration  painted  over 


THE  BALLET'S  TECHNIQUE        99 

with  a  huge  choreographic  story-picture,  sentimental  or 
frenzied,  realistic;  and  beauty  be  hanged. 

This  anarchistic  mania  is  in  no  wise  a  doctrine  of  the 
Russians.  But  their  undiscerning  admirers,  seeing  in 
their  work  only  the  lines  of  departure  from  old-estab- 
lished formulae,  shout  to  heaven  that  any  restraint  of 
individual  caprice  is  wrong.  Innocent  of  suspicion  that 
such  things  as  aesthetic  principles  exist,  they  force  their 
expression  of  "individuality"  to  the  limit  of  their  inven- 
tion.    And  some  of  them  certainly  are  inventive. 

Fortunately  the  great  dancer  is  great  largely  because 
of  his  perception  of  the  value  of  order  and  form.  The 
best  of  the  Russians  are  great  dancers ;  great  artists  in 
the  full  sense  of  the  word.  They  are  the  ones  who  will 
profoundly  influence  the  aesthetic  thought  of  the  present 
generation,  and  their  influence  will  be  sound  and  good. 
Opposing  it  will  be  many  a  "hit"  by  skilful  characters, 
and  a  dangerous  numerical  force  among  the  public.  It 
is  easily  possible  that  the  latter  influence  may  prevail. 
The  grand  ballet  is  still  an  experiment  in  the  America  of 
this  generation.  It  was  here  thirty  years  ago,  and  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Philistines,  who  shaped  it  into  the  silly 
thing  they  thought  they  wanted,  and  then  were  forced 
to  abandon  it  because  it  was  silly. 

Than  the  present,  there  never  was  a  more  important 
crisis  in  the  cause  of  choreographic  good  taste.  The  out- 
come depends  upon  the  manner  and  degree  in  which  those 
who  stand  for  good  taste  assert  themselves  during  the 
next  few  years. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   GOLDEN    AGE    OF   DANCING 

LOUIS  XIV  brought  public  interest  in  the  ballet  to 
a  point  of  eager  excitement;  indeed,  the  influence 
of  a  monarch's  consistent  patronage,  including  the 
foundation  of  a  national  academy,  added  to  the  example 
of  his  prominent  participation  in  about  thirty  allegorical 
dancing  spectacles,  could  not  fail  to  be  powerful. 

With  the  growth  of  public  interest  and  intelligence, 
the  ballet  and  the  technique  of  dancing  developed  com- 
mensurately.  The  two  enthusiasms  of  public  and  artists 
reacted  on  each  other  to  the  advantage  of  both;  in  the 
uninterrupted  enrichment  of  the  ballet  the  public  never 
failed  to  find  its  attention  repaid  in  ever-increasing  fas- 
cination. Dancers,  composers  and  directors,  on  their 
side,  abandoned  themselves  to  their  work  with  the  zeal 
that  comes  of  certainty  that  no  good  thing  will  pass 
unnoticed. 

Such  conditions  bring  good  results  more  than  can  be 
foreseen  even  by  those  actively  engaged.  As,  in  fiction, 
the  miner  in  trying  to  loosen  a  nugget  usually  uncovers 
a  vein,  so  it  may  occur  in  the  arts.  For  instance,  Ca- 
margo  found  that  her  entrechat  was  difficult  and  in- 
eflPectual  under  the  weight  and  length  of  the  fashionable 
skirt  of  the  period.  She  therefore  had  a  skirt  made 
reaching  midway  from  knee  to  foot.  A  simple  solution  ? 
Certainly.  But  it  was  thought  of  only  after  centuries 
of  submission  to  clothes  that  considered  fashion  and  dis- 

100 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  loi 

regarded  the  problems  and  possibilities  of  the  dancer's 
art.  And  it  represented  the  species  of  decision  that  risks 
acting  counter  to  an  accepted,  unquestioned  institution. 
It  was  not  an  effort  to  draw  attention  by  means  of  a 
spurious  originality.  Camargo's  work  explained  the 
change.  The  public  understood  and  approved.  The 
ballet  was  directed  toward  its  costume;  a  long  journey 
lay  ahead  of  it,  but  it  was  rightly  started. 

Liberty  of  movement  so  attained  at  once  put  a  pre- 
mium on  higher  and  more  open  steps;  technical  inven- 
tion was  set  to  work  as  never  before.  The  ballone, 
various  pas  baftus  and  ronds-de-jambe  that  followed  im- 
measurably enhanced  the  scope  of  the  ballet  as  an  in- 
strument of  ocular-orchestral  expression.  New  en- 
chainements,  striking  in  the  contrast  of  little  work  with 
big,  soon  made  the  court  dances — which  for  a  period 
had  constituted  the  ballet's  working  material — look  old- 
fashioned.  The  stage  now  required  considerable  eleva- 
tion, decided  contrasts,  increasing  scope.  And,  what- 
ever the  cost  in  skill  and  energy,  there  were  dancers 
eager  to  expend  the  energy  and  to  give  the  needed  years 
to  acquiring  the  skill. 

Since  the  days  of  the  Roman  Empire,  masks  had  been 
worn  to  identify  characters.  Not  a  bit  of  cloth  to  cover 
the  face,  merely;  but  cumbersome  things  with  plumes, 
wings,  metallic  spikes  (i.  e.,  the  rays  of  the  sun  worn 
by  Louis  XIV  in  the  Ballet  of  Night)  or  what-not, 
so  extended  that  they  restricted  the  action  of  the 
the  arms,  so  heavy  as  to  interfere  with  steps.  It  was 
a  clumsy  convention,  but  it  was  as  integrally  a  part  of 
stage  representation  as  scenery  is  to-day,  and  the  few 
who  wished  its  abolition  were  outvoted  by  a  cautious 
majority.     At  last,  according  to  her  custom  of  helping 


102  THE  DANCE 

an  enterprise  that  is  doing  well,  Fate  took  a  hand. 
Auguste  Vestris  failed  to  appear  for  a  certain  perform- 
ance ;  as  the  time  for  his  entrance  drew  near,  the  anxious 
stage  director  asked  Gardel  to  "go  on"  in  Vestris'  part. 
Gardel,  an  until-that-time  ineffectual  rebel  against  the 
mask,  consented;  but  with  the  condition  that  the  mask 
be  omitted.  In  default  of  arrangements  more  to  his 
satisfaction,  the  director  consented.  The  public  at  once 
saw  the  advantage  of  the  change,  and  were  pleased  with 
Gardel's  appearance.  So  began  the  end  of  the  dominion 
of  the  mask. 

Of  the  notable  personalities  that  the  early  rays  of 
the  eighteenth  century  illuminated,  the  aforementioned 
Auguste  Vestris  was  the  interesting  son  of  a  more  in- 
teresting father.  The  latter  was  a  genius  of  the  very 
first  water,  with  a  conceit  so  incredibly  exaggerated  that 
it  is  almost  lovable.  "This  century,"  he  was  accustomed 
to  observe,  "has  produced  but  three  great  men — myself, 
Voltaire,  and  Frederick  the  Great."  He  sometimes 
signed  himself  ''le  Dion  de  la  Danse" ;  himself  a  Floren- 
tine, the  relation  of  French  spelling  to  pronunciation  was 
contrary  to  his  ideas.  The  phrase  as  he  put  it  had  a 
special  merit,  and  as  "le  Dion  de  la  Danse"  he  was  known 
through  his  long  life.  A  lady,  having  stepped  on  his 
foot,  expressed  a  hope  that  she  had  not  hurt  him.  "Le 
Diou"  depreciated  the  hurt  to  himself,  but  informed  the 
lady  that  she  had  put  Paris  into  a  two-weeks'  mourning. 
Of  his  son's  leaps  he  said  that  if  Auguste  did  not  remain 
in  the  air  forever,  it  was  because  he  did  not  wish  to 
humiliate  his  comrades. 

The  foundation  of  the  Opera  was  another  of  the  im- 
pulses to  act  favourably,  if  indirectly,  upon  the  interests 
of  dancing.     Its  modest  beginning  had  been  made  a  few 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  103 

years  after  that  ot  the  ballet  academy.  The  two  arts 
at  once  combined  to  produce  a  new  variety  of  musical 
spectacle,  namely,  opera.  Great  music  came  to  the  fore 
in  response  to  the  added  encouragement — ^but  digres- 
sions must  be  repressed. 

Contemporary  with  Camargo  and  Salle  was  a  dreamer 
of  dreams  too  great  to  be  realized  in  his  own  time,  but 
whose  ideas  take  place  among  the  lasting  good  influences 
in  art.  Garrick  called  him  "the  Shakespeare  of  the 
Dance" ;  his  name  was  Noverre. 

To  the  post  of  ballet-master  at  the  Opera  he  brought 
the  experience  of  years  in  similar  service  in  Stuttgart, 
Vienna  and  St.  Petersburg.  His  work  he  regarded  with 
the  broad  vision  of  cultivated  understanding  of  painting, 
music,  story,  acting  and  dancing,  and  the  functions  of 
each.  His  genius  was,  above  all  else,  constructive;  his 
ideal  was  to  bring  the  arts  into  a  harmonious  union,  to 
which  each  should  contribute  its  utmost,  while  all  should 
be  informed  with  and  dominated  by  a  single  aesthetic 
purpose. 

The  obstacle  always  blocking  his  path  was  not  in- 
competence of  aides  and  artists,  not  lack  of  money,  nor 
any  of  the  betes  noires  to  which  more  recent  idealists  are 
accustomed.  His  enemy  was  the  inert,  impalpable  and 
almost  invincible  force  of  custom,  paradoxically  persist- 
ent despite  the  public's  demand  for  new  things.  It  was 
custom  that  the  composer  of  a  ballet  should  always  ar- 
range for  the  introduction  of  the  specialties  of  the  sev- 
eral principals,  irrespective  of  motives.  Custom  obliged 
him  to  arrange  entrances  in  the  inverse  order  of  the 
artists'  relative  ranks — he  of  least  rank  "going  on"  first, 
the  star  being  the  last  to  appear.  Noverre  broke  up  this 
usage,  and  characters  thereafter  entered  at  times  con- 


104  THE  DANCE  / 

sistent  with  plot-development.  Plots  had  been  crippled 
by  accepted  beliefs  that  certain  dance  sequences  were 
unalterable;  a  Gavotte,  for  instance,  had  to  be  followed 
by  a  Tamhourin  and  a  Musette;  the  sequence  had  not 
been  questioned.  Noverre  saw  the  possibilities  of  dan- 
cing as  an  instrument  of  expression;  he  insisted  that 
steps  and  enchainements  should  be  composed  to  intensify 
the  motive  of  the  passage.  Scenery,  he  held,  should 
contribute  in  the  same  way  to  the  mood  of  the  act  it 
decorates.  Pretty  it  had  been,  and  executed  by  capable 
painters;  but  Noverre  found  its  composition  lacking  in 
consideration  of  proper  relationship  to  the  other  ele- 
ments of  the  production.  With  himself  he  associated 
Boucher  and  one  or  two  other  decorators  of  lesser  name ; 
under  his  comprehension  of  the  scene's  dramatic  intent, 
settings  were  designed  that  reasserted  in  line,  form  and 
colour  the  argument  of  the  scene's  plot,  music  and  dance. 
In  this  department  he  was  less  successful  than  in  others. 
Boucher  made  beautiful  sketches,  some  of  which  are  ex- 
tant. But  one  has  only  to  consider  opera  in  his  own 
day  to  realise  that  any  influence  Noverre  exercised 
toward  the  unification  of  scenery  with  music  and  plot, 
was  not  strong  enough  to  last.  Stories  taken  from  leg- 
end, set  among  surroundings  as  realistic  as  skill  can 
paint  them ;  tragic  scenes  among  architecture  and  foliage 
coloured  in  the  key  of  care-free  frivolity — to  enumerate 
the  familiar  discrepancies  is  unnecessary.  Tradition 
specifies  a  bright  first-act  "set"  for  Carmen,  and  grey 
for  the  prison  interior  in  Faust.  But  the  profound  cor- 
relation of  colour  and  line  with  the  explicit  mood  of  the 
piece  has  remained  for  the  Russian,  Leon  Bakst.  In  the 
recent  volcanic  renaissance  of  dancing  effected  by  his 
fellow-countrymen,  M.  Bakst  and  his  ideas  have  been  a 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  105 

force  second  only  to  the  marvellous  work  of  the  dancers 
themselves.  His  scenery  strikes  the  note  of  the  drama, 
attunes  the  spectator  with  its  mood,  at  the  rise  of  the 
curtain.  His  knowledge  of  pictorial  composition  he  has 
extended  to  the  designing  of  costumes ;  his  broad  artist's 
intelligence  he  has  applied  to  the  composition  and  direc- 
tion of  ballets !  It  is  his  happy  role  to  realise  Noverre's 
dream. 

In  music  Noverre  worked  with  Gluck,  in  certain  pro- 
ductions at  least ;  and  happily.  "Instead  of  writing  the 
steps  on  prescribed  airs,"  in  a  free  translation  of  his 
own  words,  "as  is  done  with  couplets  of  familiar  tunes, 
I  composed — if  I  may  so  express  myself — the  dialogue 
of  my  ballet  and  had  the  music  made  for  each  phrase 
and  each  idea.  It  was  just  so  that  I  dictated  to  Gluck 
the  characteristic  air  of  the  ballet  of  the  savages  in 
Iphigenia  in  Tauris;  the  steps,  the  gestures,  the  expres- 
sions of  the  different  personages  that  I  designed  for  him 
gave  to  the  celebrated  composer  the  character  of  the 
composition  of  that  beautiful  bit  of  music." 

The  abolition  of  the  mask  was  among  Noverre's  de- 
sires; its  fortuitous  accomplishment  at  a  later  time  al- 
ready has  been  described.  In  his  ideals  for  costume 
reform  in  general  he  was  only  partly  successful.  What 
he  strove  for  seems  to  have  been  costuming  in  some- 
thing of  the  sense  of  its  present-day  interpretation  by 
the  Russians;  garments  wholly  in  character  with  the 
beings  represented,  in  regard  to  race  and  period,  yet 
conceding  enough  in  line  and  colour  to  enable  them  to 
be  used  as  part  of  the  material  of  abstract  interpretation. 
At  the  beginning  of  his  administration  of  the  Opera 
he  found  each  performer  dressed,  for  the  most  part, 
according  to  individual  choice :  either  the  drawing-room 


io6  THE  DANCE 

costume  of  the  period,  or  the  same  with  shortened  skirt, 
a  la  Camargo.  To  this  was  added  the  mask,  an  enor- 
mous wig  (unrelated  to  the  character)  and  some  such 
symbol  as  a  leopard  skin,  a  wreath  of  flowers,  or  more 
likely  a  property  such  as  a  bow  and  quiver  of  arrows,  or 
a  pair  of  bellows.  In  the  order  mentioned,  such  articles 
represented  a  bacchante,  Flora,  Cupid,  and  Zephyrus. 
Excepting  the  superadded  marks  of  identification,  artists 
provided  their  own  wardrobe.  The  lack  of  consistent 
supervision  and  its  natural  consequence  is  exemplified 
in  an  anecdote  of  a  member  of  the  corps  de  ballet  in  Le 
Carnaval  et  la  Folie:  in  the  performance  she  exhibited 
a  series  of  gowns  of  Adrienne  Lecouvreur,  which  she 
had  thriftily  picked  up  at  a  sale  of  the  recently  deceased 
tragedienne's  effects. 

In  the  ballet  of  The  Horatii,  of  Noverre's  own  com- 
position, "Camilla  wore  a  huge  hooped  petticoat,  her  hair 
piled  up  three  feet  high  with  flowers  and  ribbons.  Her 
brothers  wore  long-skirt  coats,  set  out  from  their  hips 
by  padding."     And  so  forth. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  Roman  and  Greek  mythology 
lived  and  flourished,  but  no  longer  excluded  other  lore 
from  the  composer's  use.  A  list  of  Noverre's  ballets 
d' action  includes  The  Death  of  Ajax,  The  Judgment  of 
Paris,  Orpheus'  Descent  into  Hell,  Rinaldo  and  Armida, 
The  Caprices  of  Galatea,  The  Toilette  of  Venus  and  the 
Roses  of  Love,  The  Jealousies  of  the  Seraglio,  The  Death 
of  Agamemnon,  The  Clemency  of  Titus,  Cupid  the  Pirate 
and  The  Embarkation  for  Cythera.  His  work  of  perma- 
nent value,  still  read  by  composers  and  ballet-masters,  is 
his  book  Letters  on  the  Imitative  Arts.  For  his  light 
composition,  Les  Petits  Riens,  the  music  was  by  Mozart. 

Notwithstanding  his  failure  to  accomplish  all  he  hoped 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  107 

in  the  several  departments  of  his  organisation,  and  in 
spite  of  his  rather  pessimistic  opinions  of  early  eight- 
eenth-century conditions  affecting  the  ballet,  the  dance 
was  entering  its  golden  age.  Pantomime — largely  ow- 
ing to  the  enrichment  he  had  given  it  out  of  the  fruits  of 
his  study  of  Garrick's  methods — had  exponents  who 
could  touch  the  he^-rt.  Writings  began  to  show  intelli- 
gent and  explicit  criticism,  and  that  of  a  nature  to  prove 
that  choreographic  execution  had  reached  a  high  point. 
The  added  scope  afforded  by  new  acquisitions  of  ma- 
terial in  the  steps  allowed  artists  to  go  far  in  develop- 
ment of  individuality.  Camargo  charmed  by  perfection 
of  technique;  "she  danced  to  dance,  not  to  stir  emotion." 
Her  special  steps  are  enumerated :  besides  the  entrechat, 
she  shone  in  jetes  battus  and  a  frictionless  entrechat 
coupe.  About  her  work  there  was  a  healthy  public 
controversy,  a  vigourous  minority  protesting  against 
idolisation  of  one  who  they  asserted  had  virtuosity 
orjly.  And  the  protests  show  analytical  understanding 
of  the  dance. 

Salle's  more  deliberate,  probably  more  feeling  work, 
has  been  noted  in  an  earlier  chapter.  Her  popularity 
hardly  could  have  been  less,  all  told,  than  that  of  her 
rival. 

Miles.  Allard  and  Guimard  were  two  stars  who  fol- 
lowed a  little  later  in  the  same  period.  The  former  com- 
bined extraordinary  vigour  with  pathetic  pantomime. 
The  work  of  Guimard  was  delicate,  pretty,  light. 
"She  is  a  shadow,  flitting  through  Elysian  groves,"  one 
of  her  contemporaries  wrote  of  her.  Certainly  she  had 
the  art  of  pleasing,  on  the  stage  or  off.  The  list  of 
eminent  competitors  for  her  affection  is  eloquent  not  in 
its  length,  but  in  the  number  of  occupants  of  high  station 


io8  THE  DANCE 

— including  three  princes  of  the  Church.  With  a  pas- 
sion for  theatrical  and  poHtical  intrigue  she  combined 
a  spirit  of  the  utmost  generosity.  To  her  the  painter 
David  owed  his  professional  beginnings;  he  was  an  art 
student  without  means  to  study,  and  engaged  in  house- 
painting  for  a  livelihood,  when  Guimard  secured  him  a 
pension  that  afforded  him  study  at  Rome.  Some  of 
Fragonard's  best  decorations  were  made  for  her  estab- 
lishments. 

Her  refusal  to  have  any  rival  about  her  kept  the  Opera 
in  an  uproar.  Perfectly  appointed  little  theatres  in  both 
her  country  and  city  homes  enabled  her,  with  her  taste, 
means,  and  popularity  among  the  people  of  the  stage, 
to  give  performances  for  which  invitations  were  most 
highly  prized.  For  these  performances  she  made  a  prac- 
tice of  setting  dates  to  coincide  with  court  receptions, 
knowing  from  experience  that  the  best  wit  and  most  of 
the  elegance  of  Paris  would  make  excuses  to  the  court. 
From  this  estate  she  was  reduced,  partly  by  the  storm  of 
the  Revolution,  to  a  condition  of  miserable  poverty  last- 
ing until  her  death ;  which  was  delayed  until  her  seventy- 
fourth  year. 

Men  did  not  fall  short  of  women  in  merit  and  recogni- 
tion. Beside  the  Vestris,  father  and  son,  fame  touched 
Javillier,  Dauberval,  and  the  comedy  dancer  Lany. 
Maximilian  Gardel,  he  who  substituted  for  Auguste  Ves- 
tris on  condition  of  appearing  without  the  mask  (Apollo, 
in  Castor  and  Pollux  was  the  role),  was  a  composer  of 
note  as  well  as  a  dancer.     His  brother  Pierre  added  to 

these  qualities  skill  as  a  violinist. 

*  *  *  * 

The  progress  of  the  ballet  was  halted  by  the  Revolu- 
tion.    Gardel  headed  an  effort  to  keep  it  in  motion  with 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  109 

the  aid  of  a  spectacle  La  Marseillaise  as  vehicle;  but  the 
people  were  on  the  streets,  dancing  la  Carmagnole,  and 
nobility  were  as  far  from  Paris  as  possible.  It  is  prob- 
able that  the  ballet  was  set  down  as  an  aristocratic  in- 
stitution. Napoleon  included  a  corps  de  ballet  in  the 
equipment  of  the  campaign  in  Egypt;  but  it  signified 
nothing  to  the  advantage  of  the  art.  Immediately  after 
the  Terror,  eighteen  hundred  dance-halls  were  opened  in 
Paris,  to  furnish,  seven  nights  a  week,  relief  for  fever 
and  frenzy.  Even  England  was  too  preoccupied  to 
offer  the  ballet  a  dwelling;  its  organisation,  for  the  time 
being,  was  lost. 

But  only  for  the  time  being.  History  records  a  bit 
of  international  negotiation  indicating  Europe's  readi- 
ness to  return  to  the  realities  of  life  and  the  happiness 
thereof.  In  1821  an  ambassador  of  a  great  power  acted 
officially  as  an  impresario  of  dancers. 

England,  whose  best  public  taste  never  has  been  satis- 
fied with  the  work  of  her  own  people,  was,  within  a  few 
years  after  the  peace,  again  seeking  dancers  in  France. 
Efforts  to  get  the  best  were  handicapped.  The  national 
character  of  the  French  Academy  makes  its  pupils  and 
graduates  wards  of  their  government,  in  effect ;  govern- 
ment permission  is  and  was  necessary  as  a  condition  to 
leaving  the  country.  Negotiations  therefore  were  put 
into  the  hands  of  the  British  ambassador,  less  formal 
dealings  apparently  having  failed  to  produce  results. 
The  agreement  was  incorporated  in  the  form  of  a  treaty, 
France  agreeing  to  lend  England  two  first  and  two  sec- 
ond dancers,  England  in  return  agreeing  not  to  attempt 
to  engage  any  others  without  the  Academy's  consent. 

M.  Albert  and  Mile.  Noblet  were  the  first  two  artists 
to  be  taken  to  London  under  the  new  arrangement,  at 


no  THE  DANCE  -    ' 

salaries  of  £1700  and  £1500  respectively.  During  the 
same  period,  and  for  years  after,  Her  Majesty's  Theatre 
had  the  services  of  Carlo  Blasis,  one  of  the  most  capable 
ballet-masters  of  his  time,  father  of  several  virtuosi,  and 
the  writer  of  books  of  lasting  value  on  the  subject  of  his 
profession.  Dancing  reached  a  popularity  that  v^ould 
seem  the  utmost  attainable,  v^ere  it  not  for  disclosures 
to  be  made  in  the  years  soon  to  come. 

Beauty  and  its  appreciation  will  carry  a  public  to  a  con- 
dition of  ecstasy.  If  to  this  be  added  the  incessant  dis- 
cussion attendant  on  a  controversy,  with  the  hot  parti- 
sanship that  accompanies  the  coexistence  of  rival  stars, 
the  devotional  flame  is  augmented  by  fuel  of  high  cal- 
orific value.  Not  without  cause  were  the  hostilities  of 
Pylades  and  Bathyllus,  of  Salle  and  Camargo,  associated 
with  great  public  enthusiasm.  To  artistic  appreciation 
they  added  the  element  of  sporting  interest. 

In  Marie  Taglioni  and  Fanny  Ellsler,  Europe  had  the 
parties  to  a  years-long  competition  that  was  Olympian 
in  quality  and  incredible  in  its  hold  on  the  sympathies  of 
the  public.  Both  goddesses  in  art,  their  personalities 
and  the  genres  of  their  work  were  at  opposite  extremes. 
In  Pendennis  Thackeray  asks,  "Will  the  young  folks 
ever  see  anything  so  charming,  anything  so  classic,  any- 
thing like  Taglioni?"  Of  Ellsler,  Flitch  quotes  words 
equally  enthusiastic — and  less  coherent — from  the  pen  of 
Theophile  Gautier,  who  was  an  incurable  maniac  and 
copious  writer  on  the  subject  of  dancing:  "Now  she 
darts  forward;  the  castanets  commence  their  sonorous 
clatter ;  with  her  hands  she  seems  to  shake  down  clusters 
of  rhythm.  How  she  twists !  how  she  bends !  what  fire ! 
what  voluptuousness  of  motion !  what  eager  zest !  Her 
arms  seem  to  swoon,  her  head  droops,  her  body  curves 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  in 

backward  until  her  white  shoulders  almost  graze  the 
ground.  What  charm  of  gesture !  And  with  that  hand 
which  sweeps  over  the  dazzle  of  the  footlights  would  not 
one  say  that  she  gathered  all  the  desires  and  all  the  en- 
thusiasms of  those  that  watch  her  ?" 

This  referred  to  a  Cachucha  that  she  had  brought  from 
Spain ;  a  dance  whose  steps  have  been  recomposed  under 
other  names,  its  original  name  forgotten  except  in  asso- 
ciation with  the  name  and  the  art  of  Ellsler.  It  was  a 
perfect  vehicle  for  the  exploitation  of  the  ardent  qualities 
that  the  little  Austrian  was  made  of,  and  on  her  render- 
ing of  it  was  based  a  great  part  of  her  fame. 

Taglioni,  in  contrast,  was  a  being  of  spirit,  innocent 
of  mortal  experience,  free  from  ties  of  the  earth.  Her 
training  was  strictly  within  the  bounds  of  the  classic 
ballet ;  during  her  career  she  greatly  amplified  its  range, 
yet  she  always  kept  within  its  premise.  Though  born 
in  Stockholm,  her  father  was  an  Italian  ballet-master, 
and  two  of  her  aunts  were  dancers  of  reputation.  Her 
achievements  represented  a  triumph  of  choreographic  in- 
heritance and  training  over  an  ill-formed  body ;  in  child- 
hood she  is  said  to  have  been  a  hunchback.  With  train- 
ing her  figure  became  normal  in  strength,  and  attained 
a  quality  of  form  in  keeping  with  her  selected  roles.  But 
overstrong  features  deprived  her  of  the  dancer's  ad- 
ventitious aid  of  facial  beauty.  Her  triumphs  were 
achieved  by  art  alone. 

Vienna  she  conquered  at  the  age  of  twenty,  in  1822, 
the  year  of  her  debut.  Paris  was  not  so  readily  moved ; 
but  a  success  in  that  capital  was  a  practical  necessity  to 
a  great  career,  and  Taglioni  never  rested  until  she  se- 
cured its  approval,  expressed  in  terms  that  penetrated 
Europe.     Business  generalship  was  not  the  least  of  the 


112  THE  DANCE 

attributes  of  the  Taglioni,  father  and  daughter;  they 
recognised  the  propitious  hour  for  an  engagement  in 
London.  The  contract  included  pensioning  a  number 
of  their  family,  and  £ioo  a  performance.  Results  more 
than  justified  the  terms;  ticket  sales  for  Taglioni's  nights 
usually  were  of  the  nature  of  riots.  It  is  as  fair  to  con- 
nect with  this  box-office  success,  as  with  any  quality  of 
the  artist  herself,  the  story  of  her  ''holding  up"  a  per- 
formance until  the  management  of  the  theatre  should 
make  a  substantial  payment  on  an  account  due.  It  is 
unlovable  in  an  artist  to  keep  an  audience  waiting,  and 
put  a  manager  to  the  necessity  of  making  explanations. 
It  is  unlovable  in  a  coal  dealer  to  discontinue  supplies 
until  a  debt  is  settled. 

Taglioni  paid  as  heavily  for  the  excellence  she  put  into 
her  work  as  ever  did  miner  or  merchant  for  the  goods 
he  put  on  his  scales.  Her  training  began  in  early  child- 
hood, and  covered  probably  twelve  years  before  her 
debut.  Her  professional  career,  with  its  inevitable  anx- 
ieties, in  no  wise  reduced  the  rigour  of  study,  discipline, 
and  precaution.  Under  her  father's  eye  she  practiced 
hours  daily.  She  went  to  the  length  of  having  installed 
in  her  London  lodgings  a  stage  built  to  duplicate  the 
slope  of  the  stage  in  the  theatre. 

Apart  from  the  possession  of  ideals  of  sheer  execution 
that  undoubtedly  were  higher  than  any  that  her  prede- 
cessors had  dreamed  of,  and  whose  attainment  involved 
almost  superhuman  effort  and  patience,  Taglioni  was 
a  productive  inventor  of  new  steps.  Flying  brises  and 
other  aerial  work  make  their  first  appearance  in  her 
work,  according  to  Mme.  Genee's  historical  programme 
of  ballet  evolution.  We  infer  that  her  effort  was  di- 
rected toward  the  illusion  of  flight ;  a  writer  of  the  period 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  113 

refers  to  an  arabesque  that  conveyed  that  sensation  with 
striking  reaHty.  The  great  addition  she  made  to  eleva- 
tion may  naturally  be  attributed  not  to  any  interest  in 
that  property  for  its  own  sake,  but  rather  to  an  endless 
search  for  lightness.  And  that,  above  all  others,  was 
the  quality  she  made  her  own.  La  Sylphide  (not  the 
composition  recently  popularised  by  the  Russians)  was 
the  part  with  which  she  was  most  unified  in  the  minds 
of  the  public.  Her  work  appears  always  to  have  had  the 
creation  of  fairy  fantasy  as  a  definite  purpose.  In  pan- 
tomime she  was  limited.  She  had  none  of  the  stage 
artist's  familiar  tricks  devised  to  capture  the  audience, 
nor  did  she  avail  herself  of  any  vivid  contrasts  in  her 
costume.  She  dressed  her  hair  in  Madonna  fashion, 
surrounded  by  a  wreath  of  little  roses;  further  adorn- 
ment she  deliberately  avoided. 

Ellsler  was  six  years  the  younger;  and,  at  some  sac- 
rifice of  time  in  the  acquisition  of  fame,  she  reserved 
Paris  as  the  last  of  the  great  cities  in  which  to  appear. 
Taglioni  therefore  was  well  established  when  her 
destined  rival  first  showed  her  steps  to  the  Parisians. 
In  fact,  she  occupied  a  box  at  Ellsler's  first  Paris  per- 
formance, where  it  is  said  she  silently  wept  before  the 
end  of  the  other's  first  number. 

The  Swede  had  succeeded  almost  in  spite  of  circum- 
stances; Ellsler's  natural  endowment  contained  almost 
everything  the  gods  in  a  generous  mood  can  give.  The 
perfection  of  proportion  of  hands,  feet,  wrists  and  ankles 
were  hers,  as  well  as  a  Greek  perfection  of  figure. 
Though  her  legs  were  of  steel,  and  her  strength  in  gen- 
eral that  of  an  athlete,  not  a  line  suffered  in  sculptural 
grace  nor  a  movement  in  freedom.  Her  face  had  a 
beauty  that  captivated  an  audience  at  the  moment  of  her 


114  THE  DANCE 

entrance  on  the  stage,  and  a  range  of  expression  cover- 
ing the  moods  of  the  human  mind.  Her  training,  Hke 
TagHoni's,  had  begun  early.  Mozart,  for  whom  EUs- 
ler's  father  worked  as  copyist  and  otherwise,  had  inter- 
ested himself  in  her  to  the  extent  at  least  that  her  early 
years  were  not  misspent.  With  her  technical  tuition — 
whatever  it  may  have  been — she  absorbed  stage  experi- 
ence almost  from  the  days  of  infancy.  She  danced  in 
a  children's  ballet  in  Vienna  when  she  was  six  years  old. 
Before  appearing  in  Paris  she  had  succeeded  in  Naples, 
Berlin  and  London.  The  audience  of  I'Opera  there- 
fore saw  her  first  at  the  full  maturity  of  her  art  and 
equipped  with  ample  knowledge  of  how  to  present  it  to 
the  best  advantage. 

Her  success  was  not  in  doubt  for  a  moment.  The 
opening  number  was  a  riotous  triumph,  the  morning 
papers  were  undivided  in  praise  of  the  newcomer.  Tag- 
lioni  felt  that  Ellsler  had  been  brought  to  Paris  expressly 
to  undermine  her,  and  the  appearances  are  that  Ellsler 
lost  no  time  in  putting  herself  on  a  war  footing. 

London  theatre-goers  soon  were  in  a  position  to  ques- 
tion whether,  after  their  elaborate  provisions  to  get  good 
dancers,  they  had  not  made  a  rather  embarrassing  mis- 
play.  Ellsler  had  danced  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre ;  the 
public  had  enjoyed  her  work,  but,  owing  either  to  her 
lack  of  a  great  continental  reputation  or  their  own  mis- 
givings about  the  soundness  of  her  work,  had  refrained 
from  very  hearty  demonstration.  On  the  first  night  of 
the  engagement,  the  manager  of  I'Opera — who  was  in 
London  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  Austrian's  work — 
signed  her  for  the  following  season. 

Contrary  to  the  metier  of  her  rival,  Ellsler's  art  con- 
sisted of  a  romantic  glorification  of  life's  physique.     One 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  115 

gathers  that  she  gave,  instead  of  an  ordered  and  con- 
secutive poem,  a  thrill  of  delighted  astonishment.  She 
was  of  a  newly  forming  romantic  cult  that  worshipped 
the  torrid,  the  savage,  the  violent.  Her  most  pro- 
nounced success  was  on  her  rendering  of  the  dances  of 
Spain ;  she  used  her  hips  and  her  smile,  and  men — ^more 
than  women — went  into  rhapsodies.  Gautier,  who  had 
seen  the  best  dancers  in  Spain,  wrote  that  none  of  them 
equalled  Ellsler.  Which  is  credible,  with  reservations 
and  conditions.  If  the  sole  aim  of  Spanish  dancing  is 
to  express  fire  and  temperament,  to  astonish  and  in- 
flame, it  is  more  likely  to  be  realised  by  a  clever  North- 
erner than  by  a  Spaniard.  The  headlong  enthusiast  is 
not  bothered  by  delicate  considerations  of  shading,  de- 
velopment, and  truth  of  form;  seizing  the  salient  and 
exotic,  an  exaggeration  of  these  and  the  elimination  of 
all  else  is  sure  to  produce  a  startling  result.  Execution 
at  an  abnormally  rapid  tempo  will  conceal  inaccuracies 
from  all  eyes  but  those  trained  to  the  dance,  and  backed 
by  a  knowledge  of  its  true  forms. 

All  this  by  no  means  intends  to  assert  that  Ellsler 
was  not  a  dancer  of  a  high  degree  of  skill,  and  per- 
haps of  some  degree  of  greatness.  It  is  significant, 
however,  that  her  encomiums  concern  themselves  only 
with  that  which,  boiled  down,  amounts  to  praise  of  a 
beautiful  woman,  performing  evolutions  at  that  time 
novel  and  surprising,  and  frankly — withal  in  a  perfectly 
clean  manner — appealing  to  sex.  The  quality  that 
might  be  called  decorative  truth  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  an  impressive  element  of  her  work.  Assuredly 
that  is  the  foundation  of  dancing  entitled  to  any  con- 
sideration in  connection  with  the  quality  of  great- 
ness.    Temperament,  expressing  what  it  will,  of  course 


ii6  THE  DANCE 

is  as  necessary  to  animate  the  form  as  true  form  is  to 
begin  with;  but  temperamental  exuberance  cannot  take 
the  place  of  a  proper  substructure.  Granting  the  in- 
adequacy of  data,  and  speculating  on  a  basis  of  indica- 
tions only,  one  is  justified  in  wondering  if  Ellsler  com- 
ing to  life  to-day  could  repeat  her  impression  on  Paris, 
with  its  present  knowledge  not  only  of  Spanish  dancing, 
but  also  of  feats  of  supreme  virtuosity. 

Years  only  augmented  the  heat  of  the  feud  between 
the  two  goddesses.  Europe  divided  itself  into  acrimo- 
nious factions  of  Taglionites  and  Ellslerites.  The  lat- 
ter were  shocked,  however,  when,  to  bring  to  a  flat  com- 
parison the  question  of  merit,  Ellsler  announced  her  in- 
tention to  play  La  Sylphide.  Taglioni  had  made  the 
part  her  own;  for  another  to  undertake  it  was  at  least 
an  act  of  doubtful  delicacy.  Nor  was  the  idea  better 
advised  on  grounds  of  strategy.  La  Sylphide  in  its 
composition  was  a  tissue  of  the  ethereal,  even  if  Tag- 
lioni had  not  made  it  so  by  association  with  herself. 
Ellsler  was  insistently  concrete.  Effects  followed 
causes.  Her  most  ardent  partisans  could  not  say  after 
the  performance  that  the  attempt  spelled  anything  but 
failure. 

America's  first  vision  of  a  star  dancer  was  the  direct 
consequence  of  Ellsler's  vexation  over  the  fiasco.  Our 
fathers  and  grandfathers  unharnessed  the  horses  from 
her  carriage,  and  counted  it  an  honour  to  get  a  hand 
on  the  rope  by  which  the  carriage  was  drawn ;  carpeted 
the  streets  where  the  carriage  was  to  pass,  strewed 
flowers  where  the  divinity  was  to  set  her  foot,  and  in 
all  ways  comported  themselves  as  became  the  circum- 
stances, during  the  period  of  two  years  that  she  stayed 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  117 

Ellsler's  professional  collapse  was  connected  not  with 
art,  but  politics.  After  her  return  from  America  she 
danced  several  seasons  in  Milan.  The  ballet  academy 
of  la  Scala  had  been  founded  in  181 1,  interest  in  the 
art  ran  high,  and  was  fed  by  the  Austrian  government 
as  a  hoped-for  means  of  distracting  the  public  mind  from 
the  revolutionary  sentiment  of  the  mid-century.  In 
1848,  on  the  occasion  of  a  performance  especially  pro- 
vided to  smooth  over  a  crisis,  it  was  arranged  that  the 
people  of  the  ballet  should  wear  a  medal  recently  struck, 
representing  the  pope  blessing  a  united  Italy.  Ellsler 
conceived  a  suspicion  that  the  idea  represented  an  intent 
to  insult  her  as  an  Austrian;  she  refused  to  go  on  un- 
less the  medals  be  taken  off.  Meantime  the  corps  de 
ballet  had  made  its  entrance,  wearing  the  medals.  They 
were  removed  at  the  first  opportunity,  and  promptly 
missed  at  the  ballet's  next  entrance.  The  explanation 
of  the  change  travelled  through  the  house ;  the  premiere, 
when  she  entered,  was  received  with  hisses.  Tense 
with  political  excitement,  the  audience  saw  in  her  only 
the  representative  of  the  power  that  controlled  the  Ital- 
ian sceptre.  Her  efforts  received  no  answer  but  furi- 
ous insults.     She  fainted. 

After  three  comparatively  uneventful  years  she  re- 
tired, rich  and — in  the  main — popular.  Her  contribu- 
tions to  religion  and  charity  had  been  impressive  and 
so  continued  until  her  death  in  1884.  Her  wealth  was 
estimated  at  one  and  a  quarter  million  dollars'.  Tag- 
lioni's  end  was  in  miserable  contrast ;  during  part  of  her 
latter  years  she  held  a  petty  position  as  teacher  of  de- 
portment in  a  young  ladies'  school  in  England.  She 
died  lonely  and  forgotten,  after  a  most  unhappy  old  age. 

Among  the  many  dancers  brought  out  by  the  period 


ii8  THE  DANCE 

of  enthusiasm  were  three  women  of  whose  work  the 
records  have  only  the  highest  praise.  To  Carlotta 
Grisi,  Gautier  gave  the  credit  of  combining  the  fiery- 
abandon  and  the  Hght  exquisiteness  of  the  two  great 
luminaries  of  the  day.  Fanny  Cerito  and  Lucille  Grahn 
were  ranked  with  her.  For  Queen  Victoria  there  was 
arranged  a  pas  de  quatre  by  Taglioni,  Grisi,  Cerito,  and 
Grahn.  That  performance,  in  1845,  represents  one  of 
the  climaxes  of  ballet  history,  including  as  it  probably 
did  the  greatest  sum  total  of  choreographic  ability  that 
ever  had  been  brought  together. 

But  it  was  the  milestone  at  the  top  of  a  high  mountain, 
from  which  the  road  turned  downward.  Except  in 
England,  Taglioni's  prestige  was  dimmed.  Queen  Vic- 
toria's reign,  however  uplifting  in  various  important  re- 
spects, undeniably  was  depressing  in  its  influence  on  all 
the  imaginative  arts;  and  it  was  an  influence  that 
reached  far.  Furthermore,  the  elements  that  consti- 
tuted opera  began  to  assume  new  relative  proportions. 
The  voice  of  Jenny  Lind  called  attention  to  the  factor 
of  singing.  In  the  present  day  of  subordination  of  the 
dancer  to  the  singer,  it  is  almost  incredible  that  opera 
of  seventy  years  ago  assigned  to  the  dancer  the  relative 
importance  that  the  singer  enjoys  now;  especially  diffi- 
cult is  this  conception  to  any  one  whose  acquaintance 
with  opera  is  confined  to  its  production  in  America. 
General  indifference  has  reduced  operatic  ballet  in  this 
land  to  a  level  compared  to  which  its  condition  in  con- 
tinental Europe  is  enviable.  Though  reduced  from  past 
importance,  in  countries  that  support  academies  it  has  at 
least  retained  standards  of  execution. 

But  the  strictly  modern  interpretation  of  opera,  min- 
imising choreography,  has  been  accepted.     New  operas 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  119 

are  written  in  conformity  with  the  altered  model.  It 
is  likely  that  the  present  renaissance  of  dancing,  though 
no  less  vital  than  any  that  have  gone  before,  will  effect 
little  change  in  the  art's  importance  in  opera  structure, 
which  has  become  a  distinct  organism  to  be  heard  rather 
than  seen.  Aroused  interest  and  intelligence  inevitably 
will  force  improvement  on  old  organisations,  new  ap- 
preciation will  justify  it  from  the  box-office  point  of 
view.  But  the  American  dance-lover's  hope  lies  in  the 
new-old  form  of  ballet  pantomime.  This  is  the  expres- 
sion that  the  great  new  romantic  movement  has  taken, 
as  though  in  express  recognition  of  those  of  us  to  whom 
the  use  of  ears  has  not  atrophied  eyes. 

Against  the  suddenly  discovered  passion  for  singing, 
the  art  of  Grisi,  Cerito,  Grahn  and  their  colleagues  could 
not  hold  public  attention.  Steadfastly  the  French  and 
Italian  academies  held  to  their  creeds  of  choreographic 
purity.  Upon  their  fidelity  to  ideals  the  latter  nine- 
teenth-century reign  of  artistic  terror  made  no  impres- 
sion; to  their  preservation  of  the  good  is  due  the  ability 
of  the  present  romantic  renaissance  to  come  into  its 
complete  expression  without  the  intervention  of  a  cen- 
tury of  rebuilding.  Russia  and  Austria  too  had  founded 
national  academies  for  instruction  along  the  lines  made 
classic  by  Paris  and  Milan.  Others  followed.  But  it 
appears  that  the  technical  virtuosity  of  Taglioni  had  set 
a  pace  that  was  both  difficult  and  misleading.  Being  a 
genius,  perfection  meant  to  her  a  means  of  expression. 
During  a  period  in  which  no  great  genius  appeared, 
efforts  to  win  back  the  lost  kingdom  took  the  form  of 
striving  for  technique  as  an  object.  The  public  was 
unjustly  damned  for  failure  to  respond  to  marvellously 
executed  students'  exercises.     With  equal  lack  of  jus- 


120  THE  DANCE 

tice,  it  became  fashionable  to  include  the  whole  school 
of  the  ballet's  art  in  the  accusation  of  stiffness  and 
artificiality. 

The  half -century  ending  about  1908,  during  which  the 
stage  was  given  over  to  all  the  flashy  choreographic 
counterfeits  that  mediocrity  could  invent,  was  saved 
from  complete  sterility  by  the  dances  that  are  rooted  in 
the  soil.  Jigs  and  Reels,  Hornpipes  and  Tarantellas  held 
their  own  like  hardy  wild  flowers  in  a  garden  of  weeds ; 
like  golden,  opulent  lilies,  the  Seguidillas  of  Spain  held 
their  heads  above  malformation  and  decadence.  This 
is  a  fitting  point  at  which  to  consider  the  nature  of  some 
of  these  ancient  expressions  of  the  heart  of  men  who 
dwell  away  from  courts. 


CHAPTER  VI 

SPANISH   DANCING 

SINCE  earliest  Occidental  history,  the  dances  of 
Spain  have  been  famous.  To-day  their  richness, 
variety  and  fundamental  nobility  give  them  a  posi- 
tion in  advance  of  any  other  group  of  national  dances 
of  the  Occidental  type.  Whether  certain  of  the  Oriental 
expressions  are  superior  to  the  Spanish  is  wholly  a 
matter  of  point  of  view  on  dancing.  But  dancers  and 
dance-lovers,  of  all  beliefs  and  prejudices,  unite  in  con- 
ceding to  Spain  the  highest  development  of  "character- 
istic" or  national  dancing.  More  even:  though  the 
French  and  Italian  ballets  in  general  hold  their  schools 
to  be  the  very  fountainhead  of  the  choreographic  art, 
not  a  few  disciples  of  the  academies  of  Milan  or  Paris 
concede  to  Spanish  dancing  superiority  over  all,  in  that 
aspect  of  beauty  that  is  concerned  with  majesty  of  line 
and  posture. 

It  is  as  though  Terpsichore  herself  had  chosen  the 
dwellers  of  Iberia  to  guard  her  gifts  to  mankind.  Ga- 
dir,  the  city  now  called  Cadiz,  was  a  little  Paris  in  the 
day  of  the  Carthaginian,  with  dancing  as  its  most  highly 
developed  art  and  notable  among  its  diversions.  When 
the  Romans  took  the  city  they  were  delighted  with 
the  dancers  they  found  there ;  for  centuries  after,  Span- 
ish dancers  remained  a  fashionable  adjunct  of  great 
entertainment  in  the  capital,  and  Cadiz  the  inexhaustible 
source  of  their  supply. 

131 


122  THE  DANCE 

When  Rome,  too  infirm  to  resist,  left  Spain  to  be 
overrun  by  the  Visigoth,  she  left  the  arts  of  the  penin- 
sula to  the  mercy  of  a  destroying  barbarian.  Architec- 
ture and  statuary  he  demolished,  books  he  burned. 
Dancing  eluded  his  clumsy  hand ;  in  places  of  retirement 
children  were  taught  the  steps  and  gestures  that  had 
crossed  the  sea  from  Egypt  in  the  days  of  the  Phoeni- 
cians. 

In  the  eighth  century  came  the  Moor:  slayer,  organ- 
iser, builder;  fanatic,  dreamer,  poet;  lover  and  creator 
of  beauty  in  all  its  manifestations.  His  verses  were  epi- 
grams of  agreeable  and  unexpected  sounds,  formed  into 
phrases  of  eloquent  metaphor.  His  architecture  and  its 
ornament,  too,  were  epigrams ;  combinations  of  graceful 
and  simple  lines  and  forms  into  harmonious  symbols 
more  eloquent  than  description.  To  him  the  dance  was 
verse  and  decoration  united,  with  music  added;  enter- 
tainment and  stimulus  to  contemplation.  Under  his 
guardianship  and  tuition  the  Spanish  dance  strength- 
ened its  hold  on  the  people,  and  increased  in  scope.  A 
certain  class  of  it  retains  to-day  a  distinctly  Moorish 
flavour. 

The  "Century  of  Gold"  that  followed  the  expulsion  of 
the  Moors  and  the  discovery  of  America  found  the  dance 
surrounded  by  conditions  than  which  none  could  have 
been  more  favourable.  Gold  looted  from  the  new  con- 
tinent was  lavished  on  masques  and  fiestas  that  emu- 
lated those  of  neighbouring  monarchies ;  courtiers  were 
so  preoccupied  with  the  diversion  that  a  memoir  of  the 
period  contains  a  complaint  that  "sleep  in  any  part  of  the 
palace  has  become  impossible,  since  persons  of  all  de- 
grees have  taken  to  continuous  strumming  of  the  music 
of  the  zarahanda."    The  less  exalted  had  in  the  dance 


'La  Malague.na  y  el  Torero" 
Eduardo  and  Elisa  Cansino 


To  face  page  izi 


SPANISH  DANCING  123 

an  expression  for  every  emotion,  an  exercise  whose 
magic  ennobled,  and  a  magic  whose  exercise  raised  them 
above  the  reach  of  sordid  cares.  In  the  Church,  while 
bishops  in  other  parts  of  Europe  were  questioning  or 
protesting  the  dance  as  an  act  of  worship,  their  brothers 
in  "la  tierra  de  Maria  Santisima"  were  insisting  upon  it 
as  a  most  appropriate  part  of  the  highest  ritual. 

Colonies  and  dependencies  fell  away;  the  stream  of 
gold  flows  in  other  channels.  Uncomplaining  the  Span- 
iard retires  into  the  house  that  once  was  animated  with 
great  companies  of  guests  and  hordes  of  servants.  Re- 
duced ?  Not  at  all !  A  few  intimates  drop  in  after  din- 
ner, bringing  friendship  and  wit.  There  is  always  a 
glass  of  wine.  His  daughters  will  step  some  of  the  old 
dances  in  the  patio;  their  younger  brother  has  "hands 
of  gold  to  touch  the  guitar."  An  entertainment  at  once 
agreeable  and  becoming — the  latter,  if  for  no  other  rea- 
son, because  it  is  Spanish ! 

To  an  extent  there  are  grounds  for  the  anxiety,  some- 
times expressed,  that  modernism  is  melting  away  this 
tradition-worship.  In  Madrid  there  is  an  English 
queen ;  tennis  and  tea  become  a  cult  to  be  followed  with 
what  semblance  of  gusto  one  can  assume.  San  Sebas- 
tian is  the  summer  resort  of  royalty,  and  of  pleasure- 
seekers  from  all  parts  of  Europe ;  its  modernism  is  that 
of  Paris  or  Vienna.  Other  cities,  to  the  number  of 
perhaps  half  a  dozen,  show  consciousness  of  twentieth- 
century  conditions.  Among  which  conditions  is,  of 
course,  an  indiscriminating  fondness  for  novelties  for 
their  own  sake.  And  there  is  always  at  hand  a  numer- 
ous class  of  dancers  to  provide  novelties  in  exchange  for 
a  moment's  applause. 

In  another  country  the  national  art  would  deteriorate 


124  THE  DANCE 

under  these  hostile  influences.  But  in  Spain,  not  read- 
ily. Her  dances  are  an  organism,  rooted  in  the  soil, 
with  forms  as  definite  as  the  growth  of  a  flower.  Men- 
tion dancing  to  an  Ar agones,  and  it  means  to  him  the 
jota  of  his  province.  Let  other  steps  be  added  to  it,  he 
will  resent  them ;  in  his  eyes  they  occupy  about  the  same 
place  as  a  third  arm  would  on  a  drawing  of  the  human 
figure — a  monstrosity,  and  uninteresting.  No  less  than 
Aragon  have  other  regions  their  local  dances  and  their 
choreographic  creed,  with  stupendous  pride  in  both. 
The  steps  are  handed  down  like  the  tunes  of  old  music, 
with  the  ideals  for  their  execution.  And,  high  in  im- 
portance as  conservers  of  their  classic  national  forms, 
there  exists  a  fine  spirit  of  artistry  among  a  number  of 
the  prominent  masters.  Jose  Otero  of  Seville  and  An- 
tonio Cansino,  a  Sevillano  who  for  some  years  has 
taught  in  Madrid,  are  prominent  among  a  number  to 
whom  the  preservation  of  Spain's  choreographic  purity 
is  almost  a  holy  cause. 

The  dancing  of  Spain  divides  into  two  schools:  the 
purely  Iberian,  exempt  from  Gipsy  influence,  which  is 
known  as  the  Classic ;  and  the  work  of  Gipsy  origin  and 
character,  which  is  generically  known  as  the  Flamenco. 
The  two  overlap  to  the  extent  of  a  few  dances  that  par- 
take of  the  elements  of  both,  and  lend  themselves  to  exe- 
cution in  the  manner  of  either.  On  either  side  of  this 
common  ground  the  two  schools  are  completely  distinct 
in  style,  and  almost  equally  so  in  gesture  and  posture, 
having  in  common  only  a  limited  number  of  steps.  In 
general  eflFect  their  individualities  are  absolute. 

The  work  of  the  Gipsy  is,  above  all,  sinuous.  His 
body  and  arms  are  serpentine.  His  hips,  shoulders  and 
chest  show  a  mutual  independence  of  action  that  would 


SPANISH  DANCING  125 

worry  an  anatomist,  but  which  allows  the  dancer  limit- 
less freedom  for  indulgence  in  the  grotesque.  He  de- 
lights in  the  most  violent  contrasts.  A  series  of  steps 
of  cat-like  softness  will  be  followed  by  a  clatter  of  heels 
that  resembles  Gatling-fire,  the  two  extremes  brought 
into  direct  juxtaposition.  His  biggest  jump  will  be  pre- 
ceded by  movement  so  subtle  that  it  is  less  seen  than 
sensed. 

In  all  circumstances  the  Gipsy  is  an  irrepressible  pan- 
tomimist.  Of  the  word  and  the  gesture  of  his  ordinary 
communication,  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  gesture  is 
of  the  greater  importance.  He  likes  to  talk,  and  his 
words  come  at  a  speed  that  makes  them  indistinguishable 
to  any  but  a  practised  ear,  the  confusion  heightened  by 
the  free  intermixture  of  Gipsy  argot.  But  the  continu- 
ous accompaniment  of  facial  expression,  movement  of 
body  and  play  of  hands  is  sufficient  by  itself. 

The  dance  gives  full  employment  to  the  Gipsy's  mim- 
etic powers,  and  in  fact  serves  primarily  as  an  emotional 
expression.  His  dances  are  not  composed,  or  "rou- 
tined." He  has  his  alphabet  of  steps  and  choreographic 
movements,  and  with  these  he  extemporises.  By  some 
telepathy  most  puzzling  to  those  who  know  the  most 
about  Gipsy  dancing,  the  accompanists  are  not  disturbed 
by  any  of  the  dancer's  changes  of  mood,  however  sud- 
den. The  instant  drop  from  extreme  speed  to  the  oppo- 
site never  traps  the  guitarist  into  a  mistake;  and  his 
air  is  remarkable,  too,  in  preserving  the  sentiment  as 
well  as  the  time  of  the  dance. 

Anything  like  the  full  scope  of  Gipsy  dancing  is  rarely 
revealed  to  any  not  of  that  race;  because,  done  with 
abandon,  it  is  an  intimate  revelation  of  nature.  El  Gi- 
tano  is  conscious  of  his  racial  and  social  inferiority,  de- 


126  THE  DANCE 

spite  the  arrogance  he  likes  to  assume.  He  is  a  vaga- 
bond Hving  in  waste  places  and  by  means,  usually,  of 
petty  imposture,  tolerated  because  of  his  impudent  but 
very  genuine  wit.  For  these  reasons  a  dance  for  pay 
becomes  a  scheme  to  extract  the  most  money  possible 
for  the  least  work.  And  the  work  itself,  though  skil- 
ful, is  accompanied  by  a  self-consciousness  directly  op- 
posed to  the  essentially  Gipsy  element  of  his  dance. 

A  Spaniard  who  has  got  past  the  Gipsy's  reserve  is 
Eduardo  Cansino,  the  dancer.  As  such  it  is  an  object 
for  him  to  see  their  work  at  its  best;  from  their  all- 
night  parties  he  has  acquired  steps.  His  diplomatic 
equipment  consists,  first,  of  an  acquaintance  with  the 
Gipsy  language,  along  with  ability  to  make  himself 
agreeable.  Understanding  of  Flamenco  dancing  en- 
ables him  to  aid  intelligently  in  the  jaleo,  that  accom- 
paniment of  finger-snapping,  hand-clapping  and  half- 
chanted,  half-shouted  phrases  that  make  the  Spanish 
dancing  atmosphere  what  it  is.  (In  Gipsy  dancing  the 
jaleo  is  "tricky,"  owing  not  only  to  suddenness  of 
changes,  but  to  frequent  digressions  into  counter-time.) 
When  asked  to  dance,  Eduardo's  hold  on  the  company's 
respect  is  brought  to  a  climax,  as  there  probably  is  no 
better  performer  among  the  men  of  Spain.  And  withal 
he  is  willing  to  buy  manzanilla  as  long  as  expediency 
suggests. 

According  to  Eduardo,  it  is  the  exception  when  a 
dance  performed  at  a  Gipsy  party  fails  to  tell  a  story. 
Usually  the  story  is  improvised  from  a  suggestion  of  the 
moment.  Satire  is  popular;  if  one  of  the  company  has 
undergone  an  unpleasant  experience  in  love,  trade,  or 
dealings  with  the  guardia  civil,  it  is  capital  for  the  dan- 
cer.    Imitations  of  carriage  and  mannerisms  of  the  per- 


SPANISH  DANCING  127 

sons  represented  are  carried  to  that  degree  of  realism 
made  possible  by  the  Gipsy's  eternally  alert  observa- 
tion and  his  expressive  body ;  and  he  has  no  artistic  creed 
to  cause  him  to  question  the  value  of  literal  imitation. 
But  the  quality  of  greatness  is  not  what  one  expects  in 
Gipsy  dancing;  its  contribution  is  the  extreme  of  skil- 
ful, surprising  grotesquery. 

Notwithstanding  the  limitations  that  accompany  an 
insistence  on  physical  facts,  the  Gipsy's  rendering  of  the 
great  emotions  is  said  to  be  impressive  at  the  moment, 
even  though  it  fails  to  record  any  lasting  impression. 
Love,  as  in  the  dancing  of  almost  all  peoples,  is  a  favour- 
ite motive,  with  its  many  attendants  of  allurement, 
reticence,  jealousy,  pursuit  and  surrender.  But  the  rep- 
ertoire is  limited  only  by  the  Gipsy's  scope  of  emotion — 
hatred,  revenge,  triumph  and  grief — his  heart  is  prob- 
ably about  the  same  as  any  one's  else,  only  less  repressed 
by  brain.  So  far  is  dancing  from  being  merely  an  act 
of  merriment  that  it  is  used  in  mourning  the  Gipsy 
dead. 

Flamenco  dances  as  seen  in  theatres  and  cafes  are 
compositions  made  from  the  elements  of  Gipsy  work; 
choreographic  words  grammatically  related  as  is  neces- 
sary, among  other  considerations,  for  accompaniment 
by  orchestras  of  sober  and  dependable  beings.  The  task 
has  been  admirably  done;  la  Farruca,  el  Tango,  and 
el  Garrotin,  the  most  popular  Flamenco  dances  at  pres- 
ent, preserve  to  admiration  the  Gipsy  qualities.  No  less 
credit  is  due  the  composers  of  their  accepted  musical 
accompaniments;  the  indescribable  Oriental  relation  of 
melody  and  rhythm,  the  Gipsy  passion  for  surprise,  they 
have  preserved  and  blended  in  a  manner  charming  and 
characteristic.     It  is  only  within  the  past  fifty  years  that 


128  THE  DANCE 

the  process  of  adaptation  began.  Jose  Otero,  in  his 
chatty  Tratado  del  Baile,  traces  the  movement  to  its 
beginning;  which  Hke  many  another  beginning,  was  the 
resuh  less  of  foresight  than  of  desperation.  The  case 
was  of  a  dancer  whose  Classic  work  failed  to  earn  him 
a  living.  He  strung  together  some  Gipsy  steps  as  a 
last  resort  and  without  hope,  and  was  allowed  to  try 
them  in  a  cafe  cantante  in  Seville.  Their  success  was 
instantaneous,  and  continues  unabated.  Even  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  Gipsy's  inimitable  pantomime,  there  is  com- 
fort in  seeing  his  dances  under  conditions  of  freedom 
from  argument  about  extra  charges  for  nothing  at  all, 
whines  concerning  starvation  and  sickness  equally  imag- 
inary, care  not  to  lose  one's  watch,  and  pressure  to  buy 
useless  and  foolish  souvenirs  at  shameless  prices.  Par- 
ties to  visit  the  Triana  of  Seville  or  the  AlbaiciH  of 
Granada  are  great  fun,  but  a  terrible  strain  on  the  pa- 
tience of  the  person  who  accepts  the  responsibility  for 
his  friends'  amusement. 

If  the  Tango  and  its  Flamenco  kinsmen  fail  to  conquer 
a  permanent  place  in  the  Spanish  repertoire,  it  will  be 
through  their  exclusion  from  the  respectable  Spanish 
family.  The  daughter  of  the  house  does  not  learn  dan- 
cing of  the  Gipsy  type  except  in  the  unusual  case  that 
she  is  preparing  for  a  dancer's  career.  The  Flamenco 
has  picturesqueness  and  "salt,"  but  of  dignity  less.  To 
the  Spaniard,  that  which  lacks  dignity  is  vulgar,  how- 
ever witty  or  graceful.  Witty  or  graceful  things  may 
be  enjoyed,  though  dignity  be  lacking;  but  the  doing  of 
such  things  is  another  matter.  The  Gipsy's  untutored 
point  of  view  on  obscenity  is  a  further  argument  against 
their  admission  into  the  home.  It  is  not  a  structural 
part  of  any  of  the  Flamenco  work.     But  association  has 


SPANISH  DANCING 


Garref 


Typical  "Flamenco"  Poses. 
(From  work  of  Senorita  Elisa  Cansino.) 


The  Garrotin.  ti      ^ 

The  GarroHn.  r..  r™,„        ^'  ^™^-,^ 


The  Tango. 


130  THE  DANCE 

created  a  sentiment,  and  against  sentiment  logic  is  help- 
less. 

La  Farruca  probably  exploits  more  completely  than 
any  of  its  fellows  the  varied  resources  of  the  Flamenco. 
After  one  becomes  accustomed  to  it  sufficiently  to  be 
able  to  dominate  one's  own  delight  and  astonishment, 
one  may  look  at  it  as  a  study  of  contrasts,  carried  to  the 
n^h  power.  Now  the  performers  advance  with  undula- 
tion so  slow,  so  subtle,  that  the  Saracenic  coquetry  of 
liquid  arms  and  feline  body  is  less  seen  than  felt.  Mys- 
tery of  movement  envelops  their  bodies  like  twilight. 
Of  this  perhaps  eight  measures,  when — crash!  Pres- 
tissimo! Like  Gatling-fire  the  volley  of  heel-tapping. 
The  movements  have  become  the  eye-baffling  darting  of 
swallows.  No  preparation  for  the  change,  no  crescendo 
nor  accelerando;  in  the  matter  of  abruptness  one  is  re- 
minded of  some  of  the  effects  familiar  in  the  playing  of 
Hungarian  orchestras. 

Another  use  of  contrast  produces  a  sensation  not  un- 
like the  surprise  you  get  when,  in  the  course  of  drink- 
ing one  of  those  warm  concoctions  of  sweetened  claret, 
you  unexpectedly  bite  a  piece  of  cinnamon,  and  during 
a  few  seconds  taste  vividly  the  contradictory  flavours 
of  both  spice  and  sweetness.  The  music  is  moving  in 
a  flowing  legato.  In  counter-time  to  the  notes  is  a 
staccato  of  crisp  taps — of  light,  "snappy"  hand-claps, 
and  dry-sounding  sole-taps  on  the  floor,  two  varieties 
of  accent  alternating  one  with  the  other.  Success  of 
the  effect  depends  on  the  very  perfection  of  tempo,  to 
begin  with,  and  after  that  on  a  command  of  the  quality 
of  sound  in  the  taps.  A  good  deal  of  attention  is  given 
to  the  cleanness  and  brilliancy  of  the  tone  of  these  notes, 
as  well  as  the  cultivation  of  a  good  sparkling  "tak"  in 


SPANISH  DANCING  131 

snapping  the  fingers.  Many  performers  carry  in  each 
hand  a  series  of  three  ringing  finger-snaps,  loud  enough 
to  carry  sharply  to  the  back  of  their  smallish  theatres. 

It  is  in  respect  to  finesse  of  such  details  that  most  non- 
Spaniards  condemn  themselves  to  the  mediocre  when 
they  attempt  Spanish  dancing.  The  mere  steps  can  be 
learned  by  any  one  with  an  intelligence  and  two  sound 
legs.  Many  students  approximate  the  style.  But  the 
seemingly  little  things  often  act  as  the  big  pit-falls.  The 
castanets,  for  instance,  expose  cruelly  the  lack  of  finish 
of  many  a  pretender  to  laurels  in  the  Spanish  field;  in 
the  hands  of  their  master  they  can  ring,  or  sing,  or  click, 
or  purr,  as  the  mood  of  the  dance  suggests.  To  an 
amateur  it  would  be  illuminating  to  see  the  care  a  pro- 
fessional exercises  in  mating  the  little  instruments  in 
pairs.  They  vary  in  pitch,  and  have  almost  personal 
whims.  For  instance,  in  cold  weather  they  fail  to  do 
themselves  justice  unless  they  are  carried  to  the  per- 
formance in  an  inside  pocket.  But  this  is  straying  from 
the  Flamenco;  castanets  are  in  the  main  an  adjunct  of 
the  Classic. 

Returning  to  the  subject  of  contrasts,  the  Flamenco, 
more  than  any  other  style  in  the  world,  perhaps,  insists 
on  difference  between  the  work  of  man  and  woman.  It 
is  seen  in  the  greater  relaxation  of  the  woman's  body, 
the  more  complete  elimination  of  angles  from  her  move- 
ments. The  degree  of  rigidity  that  the  man's  body 
should  maintain  is  a  point  of  justifiable  difference  be- 
tween artists ;  so  with  the  extent  to  which  his  movements 
should  follow  the  lines  of  curves.  But  that  curve  should 
be  the  theme  controlling  the  woman's  movement  and 
carriage,  all  agree.  The  result  is  to  the  eye  as  a  duet 
of  guitar  and  flute  is  to  the  ear.     Following  the  compari- 


132  THE  DANCE 

son  further,  tHe  dance  duet  does  not  confine  itself  to 
unison — identical  movements  of  the  two  performers — 
any  more  than  does  the  duet  of  music;  and  this  correla- 
tion of  two  harmonised  parts  is  not  the  least  of  the 
causes  of  madness  imparted  to  spectators  of  good 
dancing. 

In  all  dances  evolved  to  the  plane  of  art,  a  common 
device  is  to  end  a  phrase  with  a  turn — a  pirouette,  or 
something  simpler,  according  to  the  character  of  the 
work.  This  general  rule  the  Spanish  follow.  But  look 
how  the  Farruca  makes  such  a  turn  the  opportunity  for 
one  of  its  myriad  contrasts ! 

The  renverse  of  the  ballet  has  a  kindred  turn  in  la 
viielta  quehrada.  Both  are  executed  with  an  arm  al- 
ways extended,  so  as  to  describe  the  maximum  circle; 
of  the  vuelta  quehrada  the  movement  is  low  and  hori- 
zontal, with  everything  done  in  such  a  way  as  to  give 
the  impression  of  a  smooth,  oily  roll.  The  Farruca 
leads  the  woman  up  to  this  turn,  or  vuelta,  through  a 
series  of  short  steps.  Now  visualise  the  man's  part  at 
the  same  time :  as  the  woman  enters  her  flowing  vuelta, 
a  mighty  leap  lands  the  man  in  the  position  of  stooping; 
instantly  he  starts  rising  with  a  spiral  movement  that 
takes  the  form  of  a  pirouette  and  so  continues  through 
the  circle.  The  surprise  the  eye  receives  from  the  har- 
monised contrast  between  the  extended  horizontally 
moving  sweep  and  the  vertical  spiral  uplift,  with  its 
kaleidoscopic  change  of  levels,  seems  never  to  grow  less. 
And  if  the  man  makes  it  a  double  pirouette  instead  of 
a  single,  why,  one  simply  shouts  aloud  with  the  joyous 
discovery  that  the  law  of  gravitation  and  a  lot  of  other 
cumbersome  things  have  suddenly  been  abolished. 

The  Tango  at  the  present  moment  familiar  in  North 


SPANISH  DANCING 


133 


"Flamenco"  Poses. 

The  Farruca:  devices  to  mark  counter-time. 

The  Farruca:  typical  group. 

The  Tango:  finish  of  a  turn.  The  Tango:  start  of  a  turn. 

The  Farruca:  man's  preparation  for        The  Farruca:  ^ito  or  finger-snap- 

a  pirouette.  ping. 

(From  work  of  Eduardo  and   Elisa  Cansino.) 


134  THE  DANCE 

America  found  its  way  here  from  Argentina.  In  the 
form  it  takes  here,  its  relation  to  the  Tango  of  Spain 
is  Httle  more  than  a  coincidence  of  names.  In  none  of 
the  Spanish  dances  does  the  man's  arm  ever  go  around 
the  woman's  waist — the  purely  Spanish,  that  is.  Off- 
shoots and  corruptions  to  be  found  in  the  Latin  Amer- 
icas do  not  signify.  The  Spanish  Tango  is  of  the 
Flamenco  group.  It  is  a  solo  for  a  woman.  By  con- 
vention she  performs  it  wearing  a  man's  hat,  the  manip- 
,ulation  of  which  gives  some  grotesquely  graceful  occu- 
pation to  her  hands.  Apart  from  this  it  is  distinguished 
from  the  others  of  the  group  mainly  by  the  sequence 
in  which  steps  are  combined;  in  spirit,  elemental  steps 
and  poses,  it  conforms  to  the  type  of  its  family. 

El  Garrotin  is  distinguished  by  the  importance  it  gives 
the  hands.  They  repel,  warn,  invite ;  half  the  time  they 
are  held  behind  the  back.  So  indirect  are  their  hinted 
communications,  so  alien  are  their  movements  to  any- 
thing in  the  Occidental  way  of  thinking,  that  they  unite 
with  the  girl's  over-the-shoulder  smile  in  an  allurement 
no  less  than  devilish. 

Other  dances  of  the  same  school  are  Marianas  and 
Alegrias,  long  familiar.  New  ones  introduce  the  names 
of  las  Moritas  and  Bulerias.  Each  has  its  personality, 
but  all  are  composed  of  the  Gipsy  steps,  performed  in 
the  sinuous  manner,  and  rich  with  contrasts  of  fast  and 
slow,  soft  and  energetic  movements.  All  are  adorned 
with  the  stamping,  sole-tapping,  clapping  and  finger- 
snapping  already  described;  though  Marianas,  as  a 
quasi-Classic,  may  be  performed  with  castanets.  All 
moreover,  are  costumed  alike,  as  indicated  in  the  sketches 
and  photographs,  most  of  which  in  this  chapter  were 
made  possible  by  the  courtesy  of  Eduardo  Cansino  and 


SPANISH  DANCING  135 

his  sister  Elisa,  of  the  family  of  one  of  the  most  capable 
masters  in  Spain.  The  man's  suit  is  the  habitual  street 
dress  of  the  Andalusian  torero.  It  may  represent  a  re- 
tiring taste  by  being  of  grey  or  brown  cloth.  But  if  it 
belong  to  one  of  those  typical  Sevillanos  who  believe  that 
a  man  is  an  important  decorative  feature  of  the  land- 
scape, it  may  be  of  velvet — blue,  wine-colour,  purple  in 
any  of  its  shades,  or  jet-black.  With  the  little  pendant 
coat-button  ornaments  of  gilt,  as  they  may  be;  the  silk 
sash,  rose  or  scarlet,  just  showing  under  the  waistcoat ; 
with  the  shirt  ruffled,  and  the  collar  fastened  with  link 
buttons,  as  it  ought  to  be ;  and  the  whole  animated  with 
the  game-cock  air  that  the  torero  assumes  as  befitting 
a  public  man,  it  is  a  costume  not  lacking  in  gallantry. 

For  the  woman,  convention  has  strained  for  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  inanely  garish,  shapeless  garments  of  the 
Gipsy  sister — a  good  note  of  colour  they  make  on  the 
hillside,  but  in  all  truth,  a  poor  model  for  dressing  when 
placed  among  formalised  surroundings.  The  conclu- 
sion is  a  compromise  shocking,  on  first  impression,  to 
the  ideals  of  the  Spanish  dance.  But,  as  though  to  con- 
firm the  argument  of  the  futurist  painters,  that  colour- 
harmony  is  a  matter  of  what  you  are  accustomed  to, 
you  grow  into  an  acceptance  of  it.  Many  people  even 
like  it.  It  has  indeed  this  merit,  that  it  is  a  realisation 
of  the  Gipsy's  dream  of  elegance.  Beginning  with  the 
manton — the  long-fringed  flowered  shawl — half  of  these 
hailarinas  of  the  Flamenco  seem  to  patronise  some  spe- 
cial frenzied  loom  that  supplies  their  class  alone.  The 
richness  of  design  that  you  saw  on  the  manton  of  the 
lady  in  the  next  box  at  last  Sunday's  corrida  you  find 
replaced  here  in  el  teatro  de  variedades  by  an  anarchy 
of*colour,  and  poppies  of  the  size  of  a  man's  hat.     The 


136  THE  DANCE 

skirt  is  stiffened  in  the  bell-shape  surviving  other  days, 
and  well  adapted  to  composition  with  Spanish  steps; 
but  the  colours  are  of  the  piercing  brilliancy  attainable 
only  by  spangles.  Orange,  carmine,  emerald-green  and 
cerulean-blue  are  the  favourite  palette  from  which  the 
scheme  is  selected,  with  the  unit  of  design  of  a  size  that 
makes  more  than  two  of  them  impossible  on  the  same 
skirt.  Nevertheless,  one  accepts  it  with  custom,  aided 
by  the  seduction  of  the  dance — which  has  been  known 
to  secure  for  its  performers  pardon  for  transgressions 
graver,  in  some  eyes,  than  crimes  against  colour. 

Artists  there  are,  of  course,  who  use  the  colour  and 
spangles  with  taste  and  style,  just  as  there  are  those  of 
high  ability  and  seriousness  who  select  the  Flamenco 
on  which  to  build  reputation.  For  dignity,  however,  we 
turn  sooner  or  later  to  the  Classic. 

In  Andalusia,  the  first  dance  you  will  hear  named  is 
las  Sevillanas — ^unless  you  happen  to  be  in  Seville, 
where  the  same  dance  is  known  as  Seguidillas.  The 
latter  word  lacks  explicit  significance.  It  applies  to  a 
form  of  verse,  thence  to  analogous  phrasing  in  musical 
composition,  then  to  a  structure  of  dance.  In  general 
it  denotes  a  composition  of  three  or  more  stanzas,  or 
coplas,  repeating  the  same  music  but  changing  the  theme 
of  the  step.  Various  provinces  and  even  vicinities  have 
their  special  Seguidillas.  The  number  of  these  and  other 
dance-forms  indigenous  to  Spain  is  uncounted,  so  far  as 
we  know ;  certainly  any  complete  description  of  them  in- 
dividually would  furnish  material  for  many  hundred 
pages  of  print,  especially  if  the  list  should  include  the 
widely  scattered  derivatives.  Mexico,  Cuba,  and  vari- 
ous countries  of  South  America  have  their  local  compo- 
sitions; but  of  these  many  are  mere  degenerations  of 


SPANISH  DANCING 


137 


their  original  models,  and  many  are  compounded  with 
steps  of  the  Indians.  Since  none  has  contributed  any- 
thing of  consequence,  this  chapter's  necessary  concen- 
tration on  the  work  of  Spain  itself  involves  little  real 
sacrifice. 

It  is  Sevillanas  whose  easier  movements  are  among 
the  first  undertaken  by  every  well-reared  Andalusian 


"Las  Sevillanas." 
Grouping  at  pause  in  first  copla.    School  of  Don  Jose  Otero,  of  Seville. 


child,  whose  adequate  execution  is  half  the  fame  of  most 
great  Spanish  dancers.  Of  all  the  dances,  Otero  calls 
it  "the  most  Spanish."  Yet  it  gives  the  spectator  few 
detached  pictures  to  carry  away  in  memory.  Its  merit 
is  in  its  cumulative  choreographic  argument. 

Very  broadly  speaking,  the  prevailing  foot-work  of 
the  Seguidillas  family  is  the  pas  de  Basque — or,  in  Span- 
ish, paso  de  Vasco.     Turns,  advances  and  retreats  are 


138  THE  DANCE 

almost  incessant.  Variety  of  step  is  secured  by  fre- 
quent fouettes  and  fouette  tours  (figures  43  to  46),  the 
leg  sweep  in  the  latter  being  usually  "inward,"  the  foot, 
with  most  performers  (at  present)  raised  more  than 
waist-high.  Swinging  steps,  it  will  be  noticed;  choppy 
elements  such  as  hattements,  entrechats  and  the  like  are, 
by  distinction,  the  elements  of  the  sharper  work  of  the 
North.  Sevillanas  makes  the  feet  less  important  than 
the  hands  and  arms.  These,  however  bewildering  they 
are  made  to  appear,  follow  a  simple  theme  of  opposi- 
tion, as  for  instance:  (i)  left  arm  horizontally  ex- 
tended to  the  side,  right  arm  across  the  chest;  (2)  right 
arm  extended  upward,  left  forearm  across  the  back.  As 
the  simplest  movement  of  club-swinging  is  incomprehen- 
sible to  the  person  to  whom  it  never  has  been  explained, 
so  with  the  arms  in  Sevillanas,  with  the  bewilderment 
multiplied  by  the  play  of  line  effected  by  the  arms  of  a 
couple. 

The  body  is  held  with  a  combination  of  erectness  and 
suppleness  that  is  Spain's  own;  sympathetic  to  every 
move  of  hand  or  foot,  yet  always  controlled  and  always 
majestic.  The  essence  of  this  queen  of  dances  is  not 
in  step  or  movement,  but  in  its  traditional  style  plus  a 
steadily  increasing  enrichment  through  the  successive 
coplas — an  enrichment  that  depends  principally  on  the 
perfection  of  team  work  at  a  rapid  tempo,  and  one  that 
adds  greatly  to  the  subtle  difficulties.  Many  performers 
will  inform  you  that  a  sixth  copla  does  not  exist.  Of 
those  who  can  execute  it  adequately,  the  majority  re- 
serve it  for  competitions  to  present  as  a  surprise. 

The  scope  of  moods  from  beginning  to  end  of  Sevil- 
lanas gives  play  to  the  lyric  and  the  epic ;  allurement  and 
threat;  coquetry  and  triumph.     It  is  a  blend  of  the  wine 


"El  Bolero" 
Typical  moment  in  first  copla  (i)  —  Finish  of  a  phrase  (2) 


To  face  page  158 


"La  Jota  Aragonesa" 
Type  of  movement  Finish  of  a  turn 

A  pirouette 
Kneeling  position  Woman's  sitting  position 


To  face  page  i  jq 


SPANISH  DANCING  139 

of  Andalusia  with  her  flowers  and  her  latent  tragedy. 
Not  that  it  is  particularly  a  vehicle  for  pantomime. 
Rather  its  suggestions  are  conveyed  as  are  the  motives 
of  flowers,  or  architecture — ^by  relations  and  qualities 
of  line  and  form  that  work  upon  the  senses  by  alchemy 
no  more  understood  than  that  of  music.  The  accumu- 
lating intricacy  has  been  so  artfully  designed  that,  as 
the  dance  progresses,  its  performers  actually  seem  to 
free  themselves  from  the  restrictions  of  earth.  Each 
new  marvel  tightens  the  knot  of  emotion  in  the  throat; 
shouts  invoking  divine  blessings  on  the  mother  of  the 
hailarina — "Que  Dios  bendiga  tu  madre!" — unite  with 
the  tumult  of  the  jaleo.  For  shouting  may  save  one 
from  other  emotional  expressions  less  becoming. 

The  music  contributes  to  this  hysteria,  of  course. 
But,  with  no  accompaniment  but  their  own  castanets,  a 
good  team  can  work  the  magic.  That  might  be  con- 
sidered a  test  of  the  quality  of  composition  in  a  dance, 
as  well  as  of  execution. 

So  gracious,  so  stately,  so  rich  in  light  and  shade  is 
Sevillanas,  that  it  alone  gives  play  to  all  the  qualities 
needed  to  make  a  great  artist.  When,  a  few  summers 
ago,  Rosario  Guerrero  charmed  New  York  with  her 
pantomime  of  The  Rose  and  the  Dagger,  it  was  the  first 
two  coplas  of  this  movement-poem  that  charmed  the 
dagger  away  from  the  bandit.  The  same  steps  glorified 
Carmencita  in  her  day;  and  Otero,  now  popular  as  a 
singer  in  the  Opera  in  Paris.  All  three  of  these  god- 
desses read  into  their  interpretation  a  powerful  idea  of 
majesty,  which  left  it  none  the  less  seductive.  Taking 
it  at  a  comparatively  slow  tempo,  the  perfection  of  every 
detail  had  its  highest  value.  A  new  generation  of  per- 
formers has  been  rather  upset  by  a  passing  mode  of  rapid 


140 


THE  DANCE 


foot-work,  and  under  its  influence  too  many  of  them  tend 
to  rush  the  dance  and  so  detract  from  its  majesty.  True 
it  is  that  a  great  work  of  art  can  stand  a  good  deal  of 
abuse;  but  any  menace  to  such  a  work  as  the  one  dis- 
cussed, points  out  the  need  of  a  national  academy,  where 


Two  Groups  in  "las  Sevillanas." 

the  treasures  of  the  dancing  art  could  be  preserved  from 
possible  whims  of  even  an  artistically  intelligent  public, 
and  the  compliance  of  a  non-resisting  majority  of  artists. 
Unlike  most  great  European  nations,  Spain  has  no  na- 
tional academy  of  the  dance. 

Fanny  Ellsler  electrified  the  America  of  our  fathers' 
boyhood  days  with  her  interpretation  of  la  Cachucha. 
Zorn's  Grammar  presents  a  choro-stenographic  record 
of  it,  showing  few  elements  that  do  not  occur  in  Sevil- 
lanas. La  Cachucha  itself  has  disappeared  from  the 
Peninsula — practically  at  least,  if  not  absolutely.  Its 
existence  is  in  printed  records  and  a  few  old  people's 
memories.  The  inference  is  that  it  was  at  a  high  pitch 
of  popularity  at  the  time  of  Ellsler 's  sojourn  in  Spain, 
and  that  Sevillanas  subsequently  absorbed  it.     Showing 


SPANISH  DANCING  141 

the  operation  of  an  old  process :  "Our  buildings  and  our 
weapons  of  war  are  renewed  from  day  to  day.  .  .  . 
Chairs,  cupboards,  tables,  lamps,  candlesticks  are  also 
changed.  It  is  the  same  with  our  games  and  dances, 
our  music  and  songs.  The  Zarabanda  has  gone;  vS*^- 
guidillas  are  in  fashion ;  which,  in  their  turn,  will  disap- 
pear to  make  room  for  newer  dances."  So  wrote  Mateo 
Aleman,  in  the  sixteenth  century.  He  might  a  little 
more  exactly  have  said  "reappear  in"  instead  of  "disap- 
pear to  make  room  for." 

Sevillanas,  as  was  said  before,  is  Seville's  special 
arrangement  of  Seguidillas.  Valencianas  and  Ar- 
agonesas  are  among  the  modifying  geographic  words 
also  in  use;  Vuillier  quotes  also  Gitanas,  Mollaras, 
Gallegas  and  Quipuscoanas.  These  terms  as  localising 
modifications  of  Seguidillas  may  be  no  longer  current. 
But  their  existence  is  significant,  as  indicating  a  parent 
trunk  from  which  many  local  dance  forms  have 
branched.  It  seems  pretty  safe  to  infer  that  acquaint- 
ance with  the  general  characteristics  of  the  Seguidillas 
type  gives  us  an  idea  of  the  essentials  of  some  of  the 
dances  of  very  early  times,  by  whatever  names  they  may 
have  been  known.  Like  Sevillanas  and  la  Cachucha, 
el  Fandango  (which  as  a  name  has  retired  into  the  moun- 
tains of  the  North,  and  otherwise  is  preserved  in  the 
opera  La  Nozze  de  Figaro)  is  recorded  as  being  a  spe- 
cies of  Seguidillas.  The  castanets  are  a  link  that  binds 
the  family,  logically  or  otherwise,  to  earliest  history. 

The  Fandango,  though  restrained  in  the  theatre, 
seems  at  all  times  to  have  been  danced  in  less  formal 
gathering  places  in  a  manner  more  or  less  worldly.  A 
story  pertaining  to  it  was  written  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury.    The  Pope  (according  to  the  story)  heard  that 


142  THE  DANCE 

the  Fandango  was  scandalous,  and  as  a  means  of  stop- 
ping its  practice,  proposed  excommunication  as  a  pen- 
alty for  its  performance.  A  consistory  was  debating 
the  issue,  when  a  cardinal  proposed  that  the  accused 
was  entitled  to  an  opportunity  to  defend  itself.  This 
seemed  reasonable,  and  the  dancers  were  summoned. 

"Their  grace  and  vivacity,"  says  Davillier,  "soon 
drove  the  frowns  from  the  brows  of  the  Fathers,  whose 
souls  were  stirred  by  lively  emotion  and  a  strange  pleas- 
ure. One  by  one  their  Eminences  began  to  beat  time 
with  hands  and  feet,  till  suddenly  their  hall  became  a 
ballroom;  they  sprang  up,  dancing  the  steps,  imitating 
the  gestures  of  the  dancers.  After  this  trial,  the  Fan- 
dango was  fully  pardoned  and  restored  to  honour." 

Whatever  the  lack  of  basis  for  the  tale,  it  is  a  fact 
that  the  Church  in  Spain  has  recognised  the  dance  as 
an  art  that,  like  music,  lends  itself  to  religious  ritual. 
Seville  Cathedral  still  has  occasions  for  the  solemn 
dance  of  los  Seises.  In  1762,  dancers  were  taken  from 
Valencia  to  help  celebrate  the  laying  of  the  foundation- 
stone  of  Lerida  Cathedral.  Instances  might  be  multi- 
plied at  length. 

The  costume  most  picturesque  and  romantic  that 
woman  has  at  her  disposal  for  these  dances  is  that  of  the 
madronero — the  network  dotted  with  little  black  balls, 
draped  over  the  hips.  Imagine  the  bodice  black  velvet, 
and  the  skirt  golden-yellow  satin,  and  you  have  a  spot- 
and-colour  translation  of  Andalusia.  But  the  dress  of 
the  madronero  is  not  often  to  be  seen;  the  spangled 
Flamenco  costume  is  publicly  accepted  as  the  dress  of  a 
Spanish  dancing  girl. 

The  manton  should  be  draped  over  the  shoulders  like 
a  shawl  in  la  Jota  Aragonesa  and  other  dances  indig- 


SPANISH  DANCING  143 

enous  to  central  and  northern  provinces.  It  is  Fla- 
menco to  fold  it  diagonally  to  form  a  triangle,  and  wrap 
it  around  the  body  in  such  a  way  that  the  depth  of  the 
triangle  lies  on  the  front  of  the  body;  the  apex  points 
downward,  and  is  arranged  to  fall  to  one  side  of  the 
centre.  The  other  two  ends  are  crossed  over  the  back 
and  brought  forward  over  the  shoulders;  or  one  end 
may  be  tucked  in,  and  the  more  made  of  the  end  that 
remains  in  sight. 

The  dance  in  which  we  see  the  white  mantilla  to 
which  the  Spanish  girl  owes  a  portion  of  her  fame  is 
la  Malaguena  y  el  Torero.  Perhaps  owing  to  the 
weight  of  the  man's  costume  proper  to  the  dance,  it  is 
not  often  performed;  for  the  bullion-adorned  dress  of 
the  torero  is  of  a  weight  suggestive  of  anything  but  airy 
foot-work. 

The  characters  of  the  piece — it  is  one  of  the  very 
few  Spanish  mimetic  dances — are  represented,  as  might 
be  expected,  in  a  little  flirtation.  Of  the  three  move- 
ments, the  first  is  an  animated  paseo,  or  promenade,  the 
torero  wrapped  in  the  capa  de  gala  prescribed  by  cere- 
mony as  essential  for  matadores  and  handerilleros  dur- 
ing their  entrance  parade  into  the  bull-ring.  The  torero 
is  followed  by  the  girl,  her  face  demure  in  the  half- 
shade  of  the  overhanging  mantilla.  A  manton  carried 
folded  over  her  arm,  suggestive  of  a  torero's  cape,  gives 
to  the  pantomime  the  key  of  fantasy;  and  her  weapon 
of  coquetry  is  a  fan. 

An  elaborate  series  of  advances,  turns,  meetings  and 
passings  prepares  the  torero  to  acknowledge  that  he 
notices  the  girl.  (Mr.  Bernard  Shaw  was  not  the  orig- 
inal discoverer  of  feminine  initiative  in  man-and- 
woman  relations.)     He  looks  at  her  and  is  delighted. 


144  THE  DANCE 

The  music  changes,  and  the  second  movement,  la  mim- 
ical begins.  He  will  spread  his  capa  for  her  to  walk 
over;  but  first  he  must  flourish  it  through  a  couple  of 
the  movements  familiar  to  patrons  of  the  corrida.  A 
veronica — "Ole!"  roars  the  crowd,  whose  memory  in- 
stantly correlates  with  the  writhing  cape  the  vision 
of  a  furious  bull.  A  farol  throws  the  brilliantly  col- 
oured cloth  like  a  huge  flower  high  in  the  air :  a  suerte 
de  capa  always  magnificent,  one  of  the  ever-recurring 
flashes  of  surprise  that  make  the  corrida  irresistible 
despite  its  faults.  In  consecutive  movement  the  capa 
opens  and  settles  fanlike  before  the  girl,  the  boy  kneel- 
ing as  she  passes.  Rising,  he  tosses,  his  cap  for  her  to 
step  on.  A  touch  of  realism,  this!  Andalusian  usage 
permits  this  compliment,  with  the  spoken  wish  that  God 
may  bless  the  seiiorita's  mother.  The  second  copla 
draws  to  a  close  with  the  boy's  pantomime  merging  into 
dance  step  as  he  becomes  more  attracted  to  the  girl. 
She  is  now  evading,  alluring,  and  reproving,  while  her 
movements  insensibly  succumb  more  and  more  to  the 
dance  music  which  has  replaced  the  promenade  tempo 
of  the  first  part.  The  third  copla  is  the  dance — el  baile; 
capa,  fan  and  manton  are  discarded  for  castanets.  The 
steps  are  of  the  Seguidillas  type;  the  number  ends  with 
the  incredibly  sudden  transformation  of  a  series  of 
rapid  turns  into  a  group  as  motionless  as  statuary.  This 
abrupt  stop  is  a  characteristic  of  Spanish  dancing  in 
general  that  always  has  been  commented  on,  and  ap- 
provingly, by  its  non-Spanish  observers. 

Las  Malaguenas  also  employs  mantilla  and  fan. 
This  sprightly  member  of  the  Seguidillas  family  has  no 
elements  peculiar  to  itself,  yet  its  insistent  use  of  little 
steps  adapts  it  to  rapid  foot-work.     Manchegas  is  of  the 


SPANISH  DANCING 


145 


Groups  in  "la  Malaguena  y  el  Torero." 
(From  work  of  Eduardo  and  Elisa  Cansino.) 


146  THE  DANCE 

same  nature.  The  two  are  often  performed  immedi- 
ately after  dances  of  less  action,  for  the  sake  of  variety. 

"The  Fandango  inflames,  the  Bolero  intoxicates," 
wrote  an  enthusiast  of  other  days.  And  in  respect  to 
the  latter  the  truth  of  his  observation  may  be  proved, 
since  the  Bolero  is  still  with  us,  and  always  intoxi- 
cates every  one  of  its  spectators  that  is  not  deaf  and 
blind. 

Its  composition  is  attributed  to  Cerezo,  a  famous  dan- 
cer of  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Ma- 
terial for  speculation  is  furnished  by  one  of  its  steps  in 
particular,  the  cuarta,  identical  with  the  ballet's  entre- 
chat-quatre.  The  invention  of  the  entrechat  is  credited 
to  the  French  dancer  Camargo,  who  was  not  born  until 
after  the  advent  of  the  Bolero.  The  question  is :  Did 
the  Bolero  take  the  cuarta  from  Camargo,  or  did  she, 
a  progressive  in  her  day,  merely  invent  the  name  "entre- 
chat" and  apply  it  to  a  "lifted"  cuarta?  Certain  it  is 
that  it  fits  its  requirements  in  the  Bolero  like  a  key  in  its 
lock.  It  is  used  in  a  passage  dedicated  to  brilliancy, 
to  which  motive  this  twinkling,  gravity-defying  step  is 
suited  above  almost  all  others.  As  rendered  by  the 
woman,  it  is  dainty,  as  in  the  French  ballet.  But  the 
Spanish  man  treats  it  in  a  manner  that  puts  it  into  a 
category  by  itself,  and  transforms  it  from  a  little  step 
to  an  evolution  that  seems  suddenly  to  occupy  the  entire 
stage. 

The  cuarta  at  the  height  of  the  leap  is  only  his  be- 
ginning. As  he  descends,  he  kicks  one  foot  up  and 
backward,  in  a  manner  to  give  him  a  half-turn  in  the  air. 
The  leg  movement  opens  up  the  lines  of  the  elevated 
figure,  giving  it  a  sudden  growth  comparable  to  one  of 
those  plants  that  the  Oriental  magician  develops  from 


SPANISH  DANCING 


147 


Miscellaneous  Spanish  Notes. 

Los  Panaderos:  group  turning.  The  Bolero:  a  turn  in  the  air. 

The  Jota  of  Aragon :  typical  group.  Castanets :    Classic,    tied   to   finger. 

Las     Sevillanas:   use   of  primitive  Flamenco,  tied  to  thumb. 

foot  position.  Seises   of   Seville   Cathedral. 


148  THE  DANCE 

seed  to  maturity  while  you  wink.  The  expansion  is 
augmented  by  the  extension  of  the  arms  at  the  opportune 
moment.  Altogether,  the  spectator  is  prepared  to  be- 
lieve that  all  physical  law  has  been  suspended  in  defer- 
ence to  the  convenience  of  poetic  motion.  Davillier's 
observation  that  "the  Bolero  intoxicates"  is  wholly  in- 
adequate. 

The  dance  is  in  triple  time,  and  arranged  in  three 
parts.  The  second  divides  the  work  of  the  two  per- 
formers into  solos,  admitting  whatever  sensational  steps 
each  chooses  to  present,  so  long  as  they  conform  to  the 
strong,  aggressive  style  that  tradition  gives  the  dance. 
In  this  part  are  the  cuartas,  which  good  Spanish  per- 
formers execute  as  cleanly  as  any  French  premiere. 
The  man's  work  may  include  a  series  of  jumps,  straight 
up,  opening  the  legs  out  to  horizontal;  not  in  itself  an 
attractive  step,  but  an  exaggeration  of  the  idea  of  the 
Bolero.  Throughout,  the  work  is  vigourous  and  sharp, 
of  the  character  created  by  battements  great  and  small, 
coupes,  and  choppily  executed  brises.  The  management 
of  the  castanets  is  a  difficult  addition  to  such  vigourous 
foot-work,  and  important.  To  sustain,  or  rather  con- 
stantly augment  the  excitement  proper  to  the  dance, 
the  crash  of  the  recurrent  "tr-r-ra,  tak-ta !  tr-r-r-a,  tak- 
ta!"  must  never  be  dulled  for  an  instant,  nor  fail  of 
perfection  in  rhythm.  The  double  control  is  seldom  ac- 
quired by  any  but  Spaniards,  if  ever,  and  even  in  Spain 
it  is  none  too  common. 

Every  lover  of  dancing  probably  thinks  of  his  favour- 
ite compositions  as  personalities.  "Queenly  Sevillanas" 
inevitably  is  the  way  of  thinking  of  that  flower  of  An- 
dalusia. In  similar  manner  memory  puts  together 
words,  "the  noble  Bolero."     Brusque  but  fine,  strong 


SPANISH  DANCING 


149 


and  justly  proud,  it  sings  of  iron  in  the  blood,  as  Sevil- 
lanas  exhales  the  spicy  fragrance  of  hot  night  air. 

Of  los  Panaderos  the  introductory  measures  are  ded- 
icated to  the  elaborate  salutations  appropriate  to  the 
etiquette  of  other  days.  The  dance  in  general  follows 
the  motive  of  light  coquetry  through  a  pantomimic  first 
part,  concluding  with  a  dance  of  the  Seguidillas  type, 
with   castanets.     Interest   is   enriched  by  the   dance's 


Two  Groups  in  "Los  Panaderos." 
(From  work  of  Eduardo  and  Elisa  Cansino.) 

proper  costume.  The  girl's  vestido  de  madronos  has 
been  described  in  connection  with  another  dance,  and  the 
same  reserved  indulgence  in  the  ornate  is  seen  also  in 
the  attire  of  the  man.  The  velvet  jacket  permits  sub- 
dued but  opulent  colour ;  instead  of  buttonholes  it  has  a 
lively  design  of  cord  loops.  Down  the  sides  of  the 
breeches  runs  a  broad  band  of  colour  that  would  be  too 
violent  were  it  not  broken  up  by  a  superimposed  band 
of  heavy  black  cord  lace,  through  the  open  pattern  of 


150  THE  DANCE 

which  the  background  silk  twinkles  like  jewels.  It  is 
a  costume  to  make  an  impression  at  a  distance  or  to 
tickle  the  eye  on  close  inspection;  the  tasselled  leather 
leggings  are  delicately  adorned  with  scroll-pattern 
traced  in  stitching,  and  other  details  are  elaborated  with 
the  same  minute  care. 

Of  all  the  energetic  dances  of  the  land  of  the  dance, 
the  one  farthest  from  any  concession  to  physical  infirm- 
ity is  la  Jota  Aragonesa.  Here  is  no  vehicle  for  Anda- 
lusian  languor  nor  yet  for  the  ceremonies  of  courts. 
The  industrious  peasant  of  Aragon  is  hard  of  muscle 
and  strong  of  heart,  and  so  is  his  daughter,  and  their 
strength  is  their  pride.  For  indolence  they  have  no 
sympathy,  be  it  in  ermine  or  rags;  and  certainly  if 
indolence  ever  forgets  itself  and  strays  into  the  Jota, 
it  passes  a  bad  five  minutes. 

It  is  a  good,  sound  fruit  of  the  soil,  full  of  substance, 
and  inviting  to  the  eye  as  good  sound  fruit  may  be. 
No  academy's  hothouse  care  has  been  needed  to  develop 
or  protect  it;  the  hand  of  the  peasant  has  cultivated 
without  dirtying  it.  And  that,  when  you  look  over  the 
history  of  dancing  in  some  more  progressive  nations, 
is  a  pretty  significant  thing.  The  people  of  Aragon  are 
not  novelty-hunters.  Perhaps  that  is  why  they  have 
been  satisfied,  while  perfecting  the  dance  of  their  prov- 
ince, not  to  pervert  it  from  its  proper  motive — which 
is  to  express  in  terms  of  poetry  both  the  vigour  and  the 
innocence  of  rustic,  romping,  boy-and-girl  courtship. 

A  trace  of  stiffness  of  limb  and  angularity  of  move- 
ment, proper  to  the  Jota,  imbue  it  with  a  continuous 
hint  of  the  rural  grotesque.  Yet,  as  the  angular  spire 
of  the  Gothic  cathedral  need  be  no  less  graceful  than 
the  rounded  dome  of  the  mosque,  so  the  Jota  concedes 


SPANISH  DANCING  151 

nothing  in  beauty  to  the  more  rolling  movement  of  the 
dance  of  Andalusia.  It  is  broad  and  big  of  movement; 
the  castanets  most  of  the  time  are  held  strongly  out  at 
arm's  length.  One  of  its  many  surprises  is  in  the  man- 
ner of  the  pauses:  the  movement  is  so  fast,  the  pauses 
are  so  electrically  abrupt,  and  the  group  (or  "picture," 
as  our  stage-folk  call  it)  in  which  the  dancers  hold 
themselves  statue-like  through  a  couple  of  measures  is 
so  suddenly  formed,  that  a  layman's  effort  to  understand 
the  transition  would  be  like  trying  to  analyse  the  move- 
ments of  the  particles  in  a  kaleidoscope.  Out  of  a 
dazzle  of  cross-tied  white  legs  there  snaps  on  to  your 
retina  a  vision  of  a  couple  face  to  face,  each  on  one 
knee;  one,  two,  three,  four — on  each  count  the  support- 
ing knee  comes  up,  its  mate  rhythmically  bumps  the 
floor.  One  measure ;  again  they  are  in  flight.  Another 
stop,  as  from  a  collision  with  some  invisible  but  im- 
movable body — the  girl  is  established  in  a  seated  posi- 
tion on  the  floor,  madly  playing  her  castanets,  the  boy 
flashing  pirouettes  around  her.  Bien  parada,  palomita! 
pero  anda!  Another  cyclone,  a  crescendo  of  energy  in 
the  thump  of  sandalled  feet  and  the  pulse-lifting  clat- 
ter of  castanets,  and — dead  stop!  She  is  impudently 
perched  on  his  knee.  Raised  with  the  paisanos  around 
you  to  the  plane  of  the  happy  gods,  you  too  are  stand- 
ing, shouting  your  rhythm-madness,  tearing  at  scarf- 
pin,  bouquet  or  anything  to  throw  to  the  performers. 

Down  to  the  tuning  of  the  castanets  is  emphasised 
the  difference  between  this  dance  of  the  stalwart  up- 
landers  and  the  more  liquid  expression  of  Andalusia. 
It  can  be  understood  how,  with  the  instruments  fastened 
to  the  thumb,  and  hanging  so  as  not  to  touch  the  palm, 
vibration  is  not  interrupted  after  a  blow  from  the  finger ; 


152 


THE  DANCE 


consequently  they  will  ring  when  touched.  The  suc- 
cessive taps  of  four  skilful  fingers  on  a  castanet  so  hung 
will  make  it  sing,  as  is  appropriate  to  the  flowing  dance 
of  the  South.  But  change  the  tie  from  the  thumb  to 
the  two  middle  fingers  and  you  change  the  voice:  the 
blow  of  a  finger  presses  together  the  two  halves  of  the 
instrument,  and  throws  both  against  the  palm  of  the 
hand ;  vibration  is  stopped,  and  the  report  is  a  dry  "tak" 
or  "tok,"  which  is  consistent  with  and  contributory  to 
the  crisp  staccato  sentiment  of  the  Jota,  with  its  kicking 
treatment  of  a  running  pas  .de  hourree,  swift  pirouettes, 
and  abrupt  starts  and  stops. 

There  is  a  certain  paradoxical  relationship  between 
the  motives  of  step  and  music,  perhaps  peculiar  to  Spain, 
that  asserts  itself  most  clearly  in  the  Jota.  That  is,  the 
setting  of  brilliant  dance-movement  to  the  accompani- 


Part  of  the  "Jota"  of  Aragon. 

Showing   rapid    foot-work   to    slow    music.    Steps    indicated    by   accents 

under  music.    The  melody  above  quoted  is  that  of  the  old  Jota. 

ment  of  melodies  of  a  sadness  sometimes  unearthly. 
The  juxtaposition  does  not  always  occur.  When  it 
does,  as  in  the  old  Jota  of  Aragon  and  las  Soleares  of 
Andalusia,  it  is  the  very  incarnation  of  the  mysterious 
magic  of  a  magic  land;  it  is  the  smile  forcing  back  the 
tear,  words  of  wit  spoken  by  the  voice  of  sorrow.  Or  is 
the  foreigner  mistaken?  The  peasant  himself  sees  no 
sorrow  in  the  tunes,  any  more  than  in  life. 


SPANISH  DANCING  153 

Thumping  the  foot-beats  gives  an  idea  of  the  rhythm 
so  far  as  related  to  the  sound;  but  this  fails  more  than 
to  hint  at  the  effect  of  the  music  in  combination  with 
the  dance,  because  the  dance  so  fills  the  conscious 
attention  that  the  music  is  less  heard  than  felt.  The 
melody  itself  is  unnoticed;  but  its  underlying  melan- 
choly persistently  cuts  its  way  into  the  heart  during  the 
very  moments  that  vision  is  most  madly  happy. 

True  to  her  modest  and  serious  character,  the  peasant 
woman  of  Aragon  puts  on  her  manton  like  a  shawl, 
sternly  concealing  her  figure.  Her  full,  rustic  skirt  is 
of  dull-coloured  cotton.  For  her  no  high-heeled  shoes; 
her  foot-wear — and  her  grandfather's — is  the  practical 
cord-soled  sandal  (alporgata)  tied  on  with  black  cords, 
which,  on  their  background  of  white  stocking,  have  a 
coquettish  look  in  spite  of  her.  The  man's  dress  is  a 
representation  of  simple  strength,  saved  from  sombre- 
ness  by  well-disposed  contrasting  accents,  few  but  bril- 
liant. The  lacing  of  the  breeches  slashed  at  the  knee 
echoes  the  tie  of  the  sandals.  The  waistcoat  and 
breeches  are  black ;  the  sash — worn  very  broad — ^may  be 
either  dull  or  bright;  but  the  kerchief  tied  around  the 
head  is  of  colour  as  strong  as  dyes  will  produce.  Red 
with  a  design  of  little  black  squares  is  characteristic 
ornament  of  the  province. 

Valencia,  too,  has  its  Jota,  but  of  movement  more 
fluid  than  that  of  Aragon.  La  Jota  Valenciand  is 
superficially  distinguished  by  its  employment  of  the  tam- 
bourine; the  only  dance  in  Spain — with  possible  unim- 
portant exceptions — to  accompany  itself  with  this 
instrument.  In  structure  it  is  of  the  Seguidillas  type, 
the  coincidence  of  the  term  Jota  being  without  signifi- 
cance. 


154  THE  DANCE 

To  go  into  a  discussion  of  the  dances  of  the  northern 
provinces — Cataluna,  the  Basque  provinces,  GaHcia, 
Leon  and  others — would  in  most  instances  be  to  digress 
from  the  theme  of  Spanish  dancing  in  any  but  a  geo- 
graphical sense.  The  dances  of  the  northern  region 
that  are  Spanish  in  type  are  of  the  Seguidillas  family 
already  described,  and  v^ithout  special  pertinence  to  the 
locality.  Conversely,  the  dances  that  are  indigenous  to 
and  characteristic  of  the  North  are  not  of  the  type  gen- 
erally and  properly  known  as  Spanish,  but,  in  respect  to 
everything  but  geography,  pertain  to  the  character 
dances  of  western  Europe.  True,  the  Fandango  is  seen 
in  the  Basque  provinces;  but  it  is  a  stray  from  other 
parts.  Galicia  has  a  pantomime  of  oafish  courtship.  A 
dance  characteristic  of  Quipuzcoa  was  described  to  us 
by  Tencita :  glasses  of  wine  were  set  on  the  floor,  of  the 
same  number  as  the  dancers,  all  of  whom  were  men. 
At  a  given  time  every  one  would  jump — from  a  consid- 
erable distance  and  to  a  good  height — with  the  aim  of 
missing  his  glass  by  a  minimum  margin.  This  exercise 
— or  dance,  by  charity  of  definition — is  performed  after 
important  matches  of  the  provincial  game  of  pelota. 
Being  of  the  general  style  of  racquets,  control  of  place- 
ment of  the  feet  follows.  Many  of  the  dances,  says 
Tencita,  are  rounds.  Of  these  the  salient  feature  is  the 
man's  lift  of  his  partner.  Some  of  those  iron-shoul- 
dered mountaineers,  grasping  the  girl's  waist  in  two 
big  hands,  lift  her  straight  up  to  arm's-length.  But 
this,  to  repeat,  is  Spanish  only  by  grace  of  political 
boundary  lines.  The  same  feat  is  described  in  a  French 
rustic  dance  of  the  Middle  Ages.  So  long  as  the  tradi- 
tion of  round  dancing  joins  the  performers'  hands  to 
one  another,  choreographic  art  can  hardly  exist. 


SPANISH  DANCING  155 

It  is  doubtful  if  the  North  has  carried  to  the  superla- 
tive any  of  the  qualities  of  real  dancing.  In  pure  deco- 
rative beauty;  variety  and  force  of  expression;  scope 
of  motive ;  happy  contrasts  of  treatment — ^briefly,  in  the 
art  of  the  dance,  Andalusia  speaks  the  final  v^ord. 
Who  wishes  natural  pantomime  need  only  call  a  Gipsy. 
Mimica  more  delicate  is  that  of  Toreo  Espanol  or  el 
Vito,  both  narrating  the  placing  of  handerillas,  defence 
with  the  cape,  and  the  final  despatch  of  a  bull.  In  a 
combination  of  strong  movement  with  speed  and  grace, 
there  does  not  exist  in  this  world  a  dance-form  to  excel 
the  Jota  of  Aragon. 

The  home  of  Spanish  dancing  is  south  of  the  latitude 
of  Madrid,  in  the  flowery  region  that  the  caliphs  ruled. 
The  pilgrim  in  search  of  dancing,  therefore,  shall  not 
unsaddle  until  the  nearest  hilltop  shows  the  ruins  of  a 
Moorish  castle.  By  that  token  he  will  know  that  he  has 
come  to  the  land  of  grapes  and  fighting  bulls,  destitution 
and  wit,  black  eyes,  guitar  and  song,  enchantment. 
There  he  may  sell  his  horse;  where  falls  the  shadow  of 
a  castle  of  the  Moors,  on  that  soil  blooms  the  dance. 


CHAPTER  VII 

ITALIAN    DANCES 

PAST  are  the  splendid  pageants  of  the  Medici,  nor 
do  the  floors  of  Castel  San  Angelo  remember  the 
caress  of  the  winged  feet  of  choral  dancers.  The 
classic  ballet,  heir  of  the  dances  and  masques  of  courts, 
preserves  their  stately  charm ;  while  their  choreographic 
wit  lives  on  in  dances  that  are  at  once  their  ancestors 
and  their  survivors.  An  intermediate  generation  of 
dances  represented  the  day  of  a  society  cultivated 
to  artificiality.  The  dances  of  the  people,  on  the  con- 
trary, are  rooted  in  the  soil  and  cared  for  by  wholesome 
tradition.  Including,  as  they  do,  many  of  the  steps 
from  which  the  ballet  was  derived,  there  is  material  for 
interesting  speculation  in  their  continued  vigour. 

In  the  Forlana  of  Venice,  with  its  old-fashioned  steps, 
is  found  a  delicate  mimetic  synopsis  of  the  world-old 
tale  of  the  young  wife,  the  elderly  husband,  and  the 
dashing  interloper;  the  theme  immortalised  by  the  pen 
of  Boccaccio,  in  his  collection  of  the  stories  that  passed 
the  time  during  the  ten  days  when  the  court  exiled  itself 
in  the  hills  to  avoid  a  pestilence  in  Florence.  The  ac- 
companying illustrations  of  the  dance  have  the  benefit 
of  the  knowledge  of  two  graduates  of  the  academy  of 
la  Scala,  both  children  of  teachers  in  that  institution: 
Madame  Saracco-Brignole  and  Stephen  Mascagni. 
Both  are  enthusiastic  performers  of  their  country's  char- 
acter dances;  Mascagni,  indeed,  with  his  wife  as  part- 

is6 


"La  Tarantella" 

Opening  of  the  dance  A  poor  collection 

They  gamble  for  it:   the  game  La  Morra 
She  wins  He  wins 


"La  Tarantella" 

An  arabesque 

Finish  of  a  phrase  A  typical  moment 


Firiicl,    ^f   n     r^U, 


ITALIAN  DANCES  157 

ner,  makes  the  Tarantella  an  important  feature  of  his 
repertoire.  The  trio  in  la  Forlana  was  completed  with 
the  assistance  of  Mile.  Louise  La  Gai,  as  Columbina, 
Madame  Saracco-Brignole  and  Sr.  Mascagni  repre- 
senting Doctor  Pantalone  and  Harlequin,  respectively, 
completing  the  little  cast. 

As  a  stock  character  in  other  pantomimes  and  farces. 
Doctor  Pantalone's  characteristics,  both  mental  and 
physical,  are  so  clearly  defined  that  he  has  the  reality 
of  an  acquaintance.  In  brief,  he  represents  self-sure- 
ness  and  self-importance,  with  a  weakness  of  revealing 
complete  misinformation  through  indulgence  in  a  habit 
of  correcting  the  statements  of  others.  Light-headed 
Columbina  and  mischief-making  Harlequin  are  their 
familiar  selves.  The  Forlana  is  a  composition  essen- 
tially of  tableaux,  with  steps  of  the  dance  serving  to 
lead  from  one  picture  to  another. 

Harlequin's  freedom  with  Columbina  is  resented  by 
the  elderly  husband,  who  threatens  the  intruder  with  a 
cane.  The  frivolous  young  people  dance  away,  after 
a  mock-heroic  pretence  by  Harlequin  of  protecting  his 
inamorata  from  her  husband.  They  begin  a  series  of 
groups  made  to  tantalise  the  dotard,  whose  possession 
of  the  young  woman  has  clearly  ceased  to  exist.  Har- 
lequin embraces  her,  gazes  into  her  eyes,  raises  her  to 
his  shoulder,  kisses  her,  and  is  otherwise  familiar,  while 
Pantalone  storms  and  pleads.  Perching  aloft  with  her 
partner's  support  in  the  various  ways  known  to  dancers 
of  an  acrobatic  genius,  Columbina  reaches  out  to  her 
spouse  the  tip  of  a  finger,  in  smiling  sarcasm.  Panta- 
lone later  is  reduced  to  kissing  the  little  foot  that  from 
time  to  time  kicks  upward  as  the  lovers  play.  When  at 
length  even  that  is  the  occasion  of  a  dignified  protest 


158  THE  DANCE 

from  Harlequin,  the  defeated  one  withdraws  from  an 
unequal  competition  and  gives  the  couple  his  blessing. 

Pantalone,  apart  from  his  relation  to  the  Forlana,  is 
one  of  a  group  of  characters  attached  to  the  various 
Italian  states  as  allegorical  representatives.  To  Sar- 
dinia, for  instance,  pertains  a  soldierly  looking  youth 
called  Maschara  Sarda.  Bologna  has  its  Doctor  Balan- 
zone;  Florence,  Stenterello;  Rome,  Rugantino;  Naples, 
Pulcinella — and  this  is  to  enumerate  only  a  few  out  of 
a  number  slightly  in  excess  of  the  number  of  states. 
These  mythical  beings  are  neither  heroes  nor  carica- 
tures, nor  are  they  supposed  at  all  to  portray  the  quali- 
ties typical  of  the  population  they  represent.  Their 
associations  seem  to  be  without  underlying  significance, 
but  they  are  none  the  less  indissoluble  in  the  mind  of 
the  Italian.  Those  who  have  most  cause  to  love  them 
are  the  writers  of  popular  comedies;  the  simple  device 
of  putting  a  Balanzone  or  a  Rugantino  among  the  char- 
acters of  the  play  makes  possible  a  direct  expression  of 
ideas  purporting  to  be  those  of  the  state  itself.  Such 
lines,  regardless  of  the  literary  tone  of  the  play,  are 
customarily  delivered  in  the  local  dialect  of  the  region 
represented. 

It  is  the  Tarantella  that  the  world  at  large  accepts 
as  Italy's  national  dance;  and  rightly  enough,  since 
there  is  none  whose  popularity  is  more  nearly  general 
through  the  land.  It  is  rather  identified  with  Naples. 
There  it  is  said  to  be  the  amusement  that  the  younger 
working  people  think  of  first,  when  leisure  allows  the 
thought  of  any  amusement  at  all ;  but  it  is  very  popular, 
too,  through  the  South. 

It  is  a  breezy,  animated  dance,  varied  with  panto- 
mime not  very  profound,  to  be  sure,  but  at  least  merry 


"La  Tarantella" 

Opening  of  the  dance  A  turn  back-to-back 

A  pause  after  rapid  foot-work 


c      -t; 


O 


< 

< 

l-I 

d 

O 

hJ  = 


CQ 


w      2 


ITALIAN  DANCES  159 

with  character.  The  mimetic  action  concerns  the  vary- 
ing luck  of  la  niorra,  that  game  that  consists  in  guess- 
ing at  the  number  of  fingers  open  on  the  opponent's 
suddenly  revealed  hand;  perhaps  the  only  gambling 
game  for  which  every  one  is  born  with  full  equipment 
of  implements.  To  a  votary,  every  glance  at  his  own 
five  fingers  must  seem  a  temptation  to  seek  a  game. 
For  whatever  reason,  it  seems  to  be  a  necessary  element 
in  the  life  of  the  Italian  labourer.  The  moment  of  the 
Tarantella  given  over  to  la  morra  is,  as  it  were,  an 
acknowledgment  of  its  place  among  the  people's  recre- 
ations. 

As  castanets  are  to  the  dances  of  Spain,  the  tam- 
bourine is  to  those  of  Italy.  Like  castanets,  the  tam- 
bourine produces  an  amazing  variety  of  tones  when 
handled  by  an  expert.  The  effect  its  jovial  emphasis  of 
tempo  has  on  the  enthusiasm  of  dancer  and  spectator 
need  not  be  dwelt  upon ;  again  sobriety  succumbs  before 
rhythm's  twofold  attack  on  eye  and  ear  together.  Vi- 
vacity is  insistent,  too,  in  the  colours  of  the  Neapolitan 
costume.  The  tambourine  is  dressed  in  ribbons,  char- 
acteristically the  national  red,  white,  and  stinging  green. 
Stripes  as  brilliant  as  caprice  may  suggest  adorn  the 
girl's  head-dress,  apron  and  skirt.  Nor  must  her  more 
substantial  finery  be  forgotten;  until  a  responsible  age 
is  attained  by  children  of  her  own,  she  is  guardian  of  an 
accumulating  collection  of  necklaces  and  earrings, 
bracelets  and  rings  that  are  as  a  family  symbol  of  re- 
spectability. Just  as  in  other  nations  the  inherited  table 
silver  is  brought  out  to  grace  occasions  of  rejoicing, 
the  Neapolitan  young  woman  on  like  occasion  exhibits 
gold,  silver  and  gay  red  coral  in  adornment  of  her  per- 
son— adding  much  to  the  sparkle  of  the  Tarantella. 


i6o  THE  DANCE 

The  boy  (in  these  and  the  pictures  of  la  Ciociara 
represented  by  Mile.  La  Gai)  has  a  necktie  as  red  as 
dyes  will  yield,  and  a  long  fisherman's  cap  of  the  same 
colour.  It  is  Italian  stage  tradition,  by  the  way,  that 
the  Neapolitan  fisher  boy's  trouser-legs  should  be  rolled 
up  to  slightly  different  heights. 

The  dance  itself  is  full  of  pretty  groups,  well  spiced 
with  moods.  The  steps  are  happily  varied  and  well 
composed.  There  are  many  turns,  the  boy  frequently 
assisting  with  the  familiar  spiral  twist  of  the  girl's  up- 
raised hands — a  device  that,  with  any  execution  back  of 
it,  always  produces  a  pleasant  effect.  The  turns  also 
are  highly  enhanced  in  value  when,  as  they  frequently 
do,  they  terminate  so  as  to  bring  the  dancers  into  an 
effective  embrace.  Preparation  for  a  pirouette  by  both 
dancers  is  utilised,  at  one  point,  as  a  pretext  for  some 
delightfully  grotesque  poses. 

It  is  a  dance  worthy  of  study  and  performance  by  art- 
ists, and  of  the  enthusiasm  of  appreciators  of  good  work. 
In  Corinne  occurs  a  passage  reflecting  its  impression  on 
Madame  de  Stael.  The  following  selections  seem  most 
suggestive  of  the  effect  produced:  ".  .  .  beating  the 
air  with  her  tambourine — in  all  her  movements  showing 
a  grace,  a  lissomeness,  a  blending  of  modesty  and  aban- 
don, which  gave  the  spectator  some  idea  of  the  power 
exercised  over  the  imagination  by  the  Indian  dancing- 
girls,  when  they  are,  so  to  speak,  poets  in  the  dance,  ex- 
pressing varied  feelings  by  characteristic  steps  and  pic- 
turesque attitudes.  Corinne  was  so  well  acquainted 
with  the  different  attitudes  which  painters  and  sculptors 
have  depicted,  that  by  a  slight  movement  of  her  arms, 
holding  the  tambourine  sometimes  above  her  head,  some- 
times in  front  of  her,  while  the  other  hand  ran  over  the 


"La  Ciociara" 

Opening  promenade  (i,  2)  —  End  of  promenade  (3) —  He  has  "made  eyes"  at  a 
spectator  (4)  —  Opening  of  dance  (second  movement)  (5) 


To  face  page  l6o 


"La  Ciociara" 

Rustic  affection  Again  caught  in  perfidy 

Tries  to  make  amends 
Without  success  Removed  from  temptation 


To  face  page  i6l 


ITALIAN  DANCES  161 

bells  with  incredible  swiftness,  she  would  recall  the  dan- 
cing girls  of  Herculaneum,  and  present  before  the  eye  of 
the  painter  or  artist  one  idea  after  another  in  swift  suc- 
cession. It  was  not  French  dancing,  so  remarkable  for 
the  elegance  and  difficulty  of  its  steps;  it  was  a  talent 
much  more  closely  related  to  imagination  and  feeling. 
The  mood  was  expressed  alternately  by  exactness  or 
softness  of  movement.  Corinne,  dancing,  made  the  on- 
lookers share  her  feelings,  just  as  if  she  were  improvis- 
ing, playing  the  lyre,  or  designing  figures ;  every  motion 
was  to  her  as  expressive  as  spoken  language." 

The  similarity  between  the  words  Tarantella,  and 
"tarantula,"  a  large  and  poisonous  spider,  causes  endless 
speculation  to  the  end  of  establishing  a  more  than  etymo- 
logical relation  between  the  two.  One  author  seriously 
affirms  that  the  dance  is  a  standard  rural  remedy  for  the 
bite  of  the  insect,  the  energetic  movement  starting  a 
perspiration  that  relieves  the  system  of  poison.  Various 
German  physicians  have  written  reports  on  the  subject, 
generally  ending  with  a  statement  that  the  said  antidote 
for  poison  is  of  doubtful  efficacy !  Approaching  the  sub- 
ject from  another  angle,  the  word  tarantismos  is  discov- 
ered: a  species  of  hysteria  common  in  Calabria  and 
Apulia,  and  (by  etymology)  attributed  to  the  bites  of 
tarantulas  to  be  found  in  those  parts.  But  along  comes 
another  learned  person  who  finds  that  tarantismos  is  not 
due  to  tarantula  bites,  but  to  certain  molluscs  that  Cal- 
abrians  and  Apulians  customarily  include  in  their  food 
regime !  He  harks  back  to  a  certain  dancing  mania  that 
was  more  or  less  epidemic  in  Europe  during  a  period  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  a  hysterical  condition  found  curable  by 
violent  dancing.  Whence  he  induces  that  the  Tarantella 
derives  its  name  from  tarantismos,  and  that  it  originated 


i62  THE  DANCE 

as  a  cure  for  neurasthenia.  Still  another  finds  that  the 
ailment  causes  hysterical  movements,  "similar  to  dan- 
cing!" and  flatters  the  Tarantella  with  this  spasmodic 
origin.  Again,  a  grave  experimenter  finds  that  taran- 
tulas, placed  on  floats  in  water  so  that  they  will  be  dis- 
inclined to  run  away,  will  move  their  feet  in  time  to 
music.  He  does  not  ask  us  to  infer  from  this  that  the 
steps  of  the  dance  were  so  originated  and  composed,  but 
in  the  cause  of  general  joyousness  he  might  have,  and 
that  without  much  damage  to  the  accumulated  erudition 
on  the  subject. 

All  the  Latin  countries,  no  less  than  Scotland  and  Ire- 
land, have  their  Jig.  In  Italy,  as  elsewhere,  it  is  a  com- 
position of  rapid  clog  and  shuflle  steps.  More  than  most 
Occidental  countries  Italy  has  a  lingering  fondness  for 
pantomime;  doubtless  as  a  heritage  from  the  theatre  of 
Rome,  and  increased  through  centuries  of  political  in- 
trigue that  sometimes  made  the  spoken  word  inadvisable. 
Like  the  Forlana,  la  Ciociara  of  Romagna  is  an  example 
of  choreographic  pantomime  carried  to  a  high  pitch  of 
narrative  quality.  It  represents  a  heavy-footed  shep- 
herd and  his  wife,  and  their  unpaid  efforts  to  collect 
coins  for  music  and  dancing  during  their  visit  to  the 
village. 

After  a  little  promenade  to  the  music  of  the  pipe,  or 
piffara,  that  has  descended  unchanged  from  the  days  of 
the  shepherds  on  the  slope  of  Mount  Ida,  and  the  tam- 
bourine of  equally  venerable  age,  the  tambourine  is 
passed  before  an  imaginary  circle  of  auditors.  The  im- 
aginary coins  failing  to  come  forth,  the  couple  impul- 
sively decide  to  dance  anyway,  for  their  own  amuse- 
ment. The  dance  proper  is  of  the  flowing  style  of  the 
Tarantella,  but  includes  only  the  simpler  steps.     An 


ITALIAN  DANCES  163 

important  contribution  to  the  amusing  character  of  the 
performance  is  a  bit  of  by-play  that  begins  after  the 
work  has  apparently  terminated:  the  shepherd,  oaf 
though  he  is,  expresses  an  interest  in  a  pretty  face  in 
the  audience,  and  even  a  belief  that  his  interest  is  re- 
ciprocated. He  is  roundly  scolded  by  his  wife,  soothes 
her  feelings,  and  at  last  retires  under  a  not  misplaced 
surveillance. 

The  Saltarello,  an  old  and  lively  step-dance  identified 
with  Rome,  and  including  several  steps  of  the  Tarantella, 
completes  the  list  of  popular  dances  for  which  Italy  is 
famous.  Other  names  there  are  in  abundance,  but  of 
dances  identified  with  their  localities.  La  Siciliana  is  a 
delicate  but  insufficiently  varied  product  of  the  island 
from  which  it  has  its  name.  Messina  has  a  pantomimic 
dance  known  as  la  Ruggera;  Florence  its  Trescona,  and 
so  on  indefinitely.  Of  these,  such  as  have  any  choreo- 
graphic interest  are  said  to  owe  it  to  the  Tarantella.  Of 
many  the  interest  is  chiefly  historical,  since  they  are 
woven  into  one  tissue  with  old  songs  and  old  legends. 
Poetic  and  altogether  fascinating  as  such  compositions 
frequently  are,  however,  their  prevailing  lack  of  the 
essential  qualities  of  dancing  makes  discussion  of  them 
inappropriate  to  a  book  on  that  subject.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  highly  characteristic  flavour  of  the  music  and 
the  words  of  their  accompanying  songs  makes  them  a 
fascinating  study  under  the  heads  of  folk-lore  and  folk- 
music,  in  which  connection  they  are  the  subject  of  sev- 
eral writings  of  great  interest. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING  IN  GENERAL 

TO  people  who  toil  long  hours  at  confining  work 
that  requires  care  and  skill,  there  comes  at  the 
end  of  the  day  a  craving  for  exercise  that  will 
release  the  mind  from  the  constraint  of  attention,  that 
will  let  the  muscles  play  with  vigour  and  abandon.  In 
response  to  this  demand  of  nature  there  exists  one  class 
of  folk-dancing — the  genre  of  the  careless,  energetic 
romp  of  people  bedecked  in  bright  colours,  joining  hands 
now  to  form  themselves  in  rings,  or  again  in  interweav- 
ing lines,  improvising  figures,  heedless  of  step  except  the 
simplest  skipping  and  balancing. 

Acting  contrariwise  to  the  influence  of  daily  labour  in- 
volving skill  and  attention,  is  the  force  of  habitual  work 
that  does  not  require  enough  precision  to  satisfy  the 
healthy  craving  for  fine  co-ordination  of  muscle,  nerve 
and  mind.  The  latter  condition,  too,  moves  to  the  dance. 
But  here,  in  the  case  of  a  people  whose  potency  of  skill 
is  not  spent  in  the  day's  work,  the  dance  is  likely  to 
assume  forms  of  such  precision  and  elaboration  that  its 
performance  requires  considerable  training,  and  such 
beauty  that  it  attains  to  the  plane  of  art. 

These  two  divisions  are  far  from  exact;  many  influ- 
ences modify  them.  But  they  serve  as  a  beginning  of 
the  process  of  separating  the  gems  of  folk-dancing  from 
the  mass  of  that  which  bears  a  superficial  sparkle  but  is 

without  intrinsic  choreographic  value. 

164 


fc___^B^* 

^ 

lii^~ 

n^s 

Scotch  "Sword  Dance" 
Miss  Margaret  Crawford  and  partner 

The  steps  and  jumps  bring  the  feet  as  close  to  the  sword  as  is  possible  without 

touching  it 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       165 

The  second  supposition,  of  a  people  engaged  at  work 
not  sufficiently  exacting  in  finesse  to  satisfy  their  craving 
for  skilled  co-ordination,  may  be  taken  to  indicate  a 
merely  healthy  race  whose  daily  tasks  require  no  finer 
technique  than  the  ordinary  labour  of  a  farm;  in  such 
category  might  be  put  the  peasants  of  Aragon.  The 
same  relation  would  exist  between  a  people  less  virile  and 
a  form  of  daily  labour  still  less  concerned  with  skill,  as 
the  Andalusians.  Or  again,  it  is  valid  in  the  case  of  a 
community  engaged  in  crafts  requiring  fine  workman- 
ship, if  that  community  be  of  people  endowed  with  nerv- 
ous energy  in  excess  of  the  requirements  of  the  day's 
work ;  and  that  is  the  condition  in  those  eternally  youth- 
ful nations,  Scotland  and  Ireland. 

National  sense  of  beauty  is  a  factor  in  the  determina- 
tion of  the  dances  of  a  country.  The  Latins  have  it. 
The  Italians  and  Spanish  have  the  leisure  to  practice  its 
expression.  The  French,  on  the  contrary,  direct  their 
energies  into  work  of  pecuniary  value,  and  their  accept- 
ance of  the  doctrine  of  accumulation  keeps  their  atten- 
tion where  it  will  be  paid.  Pierre  and  Laurette  frolic 
with  the  neighbours  on  the  green,  in  the  moonlight,  in 
what  they  call  a  dance.  It  gives  them  exercise  and 
many  a  laugh.  But  when  they  would  see  beauty,  they 
patronise  its  specialised  exponent,  the  ballet. 

"Folk-dancing"  is  practically  synonymous  with  **char- 
acter  dancing,"  or,  as  the  word  is  frequently  formed  in 
literal  translation  of  its  French  original,  "characteristic 
dancing."  It  means  what  it  implies,  an  exposition  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  people  to  whom  it  pertains. 
Energy  or  dreaminess,  fire  or  coolness,  and  a  multitude 
of  other  qualities  are  bound  to  assert  themselves,  auto- 
matically; to  any  one  who  can  even  half  read  their 


i66  THE  DANCE 

language,  character  dances  are  an  open  book  of  intimate 
personal  revelation.  The  portrayal  of  sports  or  trades, 
which  is  the  sort  of  thing  with  which  many  folk-dances 
are  concerned,  does  not  detract  from  their  interest  as 
expositors  of  national  temperament.  Though  it  may 
be  noted  that,  in  general,  the  more  a  dance  occupies  itself 
with  imitation,  the  less  its  value  as  a  dance. 

Not  least  of  the  elements  of  interest  attaching  to  these 
dances  is  the  measure  they  apply  to  national  vitality  or 
the  lack  of  it.  Through  the  form  and  execution  of 
its  dance,  the  nation  as  yet  half-barbarous  reveals  vital 
potentiality;  the  people  that  has  luxuriated  in  centuries 
of  power  displays  its  lassitude  of  nerve;  and  the  young 
political  organism  shows  marks  of  senility  at  birth. 
The  aboriginal  savage,  huge-limbed,  bounds  through 
dances  fitted  to  the  limitations  of  muscles  that  cannot  be 
controlled  by  brain,  and  the  limitations  of  brain  that  can- 
not invent  or  sustain  attention;  his  dance  exposes  him 
as  of  a  race  not  in  its  youthful  vigour,  but  in  the  degen- 
eracy wrought  less  by  time  than  by  manner  of  living. 
The  Indian  of  North  America  is  dying  of  age ;  the  Rus- 
sian is  in  his  youth. 

The  list  of  forces  that  make  and  preserve  at  nation's 
dances  is  incomplete  without  the  addition  of  the  some- 
times powerful  element  of  national  pride.  This  un- 
doubtedly enters  into  the  high  cultivation  of  the  dances 
of  Scotland.  The  industry,  thrift  and  all-round  prac- 
tical nature  of  the  Scotch  need  not  be  enlarged  upon. 
Though  they  do  not  lack  appreciation  of  beauty,  they 
consider  it  a  luxury  for  only  limited  indulgence,  except 
as  it  is  provided  by  nature.  But  the  Sword  Dance  and 
the  Fling  of  their  warring  ancestors  are  as  though  asso- 
ciated with  the  holy  cause  of  freedom.     On  many  a 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       167 

Highland  battlefield  they  have  been  stepped;  they  have 
wet  their  scurrying  feet  in  spilled  blood. 

To  learn  Scotch  dancing  takes  time,  precious  time. 
But  it  is  time  spent  on  a  decent  and  a  fitting  thing ;  they 
are  Scotch !  Scotch  as  the  thistle  itself !  From  pulpits 
have  come,  at  times,  objections  to  them;  from  armed 
camps  and  lairds*  halls  of  other  days  has  come  the 
answer,  far  but  clear :  that  Scottish  chiefs,  godly  men  as 
well  as  brave,  trod  their  Flings  in  celebration  of  victories 
dear  to  memory.  It  is  enough.  The  cult  of  the  dance 
has  continued,  unchecked  by  the  inability  of  occasional 
well-meaning  divines  to  see  its  significance. 

Caesar  "commented"  upon  the  fighting  qualities  of  the 
Picti,  built  a  wall  to  keep  them  oflF  from  the  Anglia  that 
he  had  conquered,  and  decided  not  to  push  his  conquests 
farther  north.  The  fighting  spirit  of  those  tartaned 
clansmen  never  has  softened  and  has  had  much  occupa- 
tion throughout  the  subsequent  centuries ;  and  attaching 
to  it  is  an  epic,  a  saga,  in  the  shape  of  the  Sword  Dance. 

Around  the  Sword  Dance  in  particular  the  Scotch 
people  group  associations.  In  earlier  times  its  perform- 
ance was  customary  on  the  eve  of  battle  to  relieve  ten- 
sion, to  exhibit  self-control,  and,  perhaps  most  impor- 
tant of  all,  to  test  fortune.  To  touch  with  the  foot  the 
crossed  sword  or  scabbard  between  and  about  which  the 
dancing  warrior  picked  his  steps  was  an  omen  of  ill  for 
the  individual  or  his  comrades.  In  present-day  competi- 
tions, the  ill  luck  following  this  error  is  evident ;  to  touch 
the  sword  or  scabbard  with  the  foot  eliminates  the  offen- 
der from  the  contest. 

The  Highland  Fling,  in  distinction  from  the  above, 
symbolises  victory  or  rejoicing.  With  the  other  dances 
of  Scotland,  it  has  been  highly  formalised.     Moreover, 


i68  THE  DANCE 

• 

its  routine,  steps,  and  the  proper  execution  of  each  are 

so  clearly  defined  and  generally  understood  that  any 

change  in  them  is  immediately  resented  by  any  Scotch 

audience. 

Every  one  has  seen  Scotch  dances;  any  detailed  an- 
alysis of  them  would  be  superfluous.  Exhilarating  as 
Highland  whiskey,  sharp  as  the  thistle,  they  are  carried 
to  a  high  plane  of  art.  Through  them  all  runs  a  homo- 
geneous angularity  of  movement  that  literally  translates 
the  sentiment  of  ''Caledonia,  stern  and  wild."  To  the 
dances  of  Italy  and  Andalusia  they  are  as  wind-blown 
mountain  pines  in  contrast  to  orange  trees  fanned  by 
Mediterranean  zephyrs.  The  theme  of  the  sharp  angle 
is  kept  absolutely  intact,  unmodified  by  any  element  of 
sweep  or  curve  that  the  eye  can  detect.  The  essential 
steps  are  two,  with  variations:  the  kicking  step  of  the 
Schottische  Militaire,  of  frequent  mention  on  ballroom 
programmes  of  twenty-five  years  ago;  and  hattements, 
great  and  small.  It  will  be  seen  that  these  are  perfectly 
of  a  kind.  The  surprising  thing  is  the  variety  derived 
from  combinations  of  these  two  elements  with  simple 
turns,  simple  jumps,  and  little  if  anything  else  of  foot- 
work. The  result  serves,  from  a  purely  analytical  point 
of  view,  as  an  admirable  demonstration  of  the  value  of 
a  simple  theme  intelligently  insisted  on. 

Spirit,  of  course,  is  another  factor  of  great  importance 
in  making  Scotch  dances  what  they  are.  A  Scotch 
dancer  without  spirit  could  not  be  imagined.  Spanish 
dancers  sometimes  work  coldly,  ballet  dancers  often; 
but  a  Scotch  dancer  never.  The  first  note  of  the  bag- 
pipes inflames  him. 

With  the  rigourous  definition  of  step,  technique  and 
style  that  attaches  to  these  dances,  and  the  thoroughness 


Hoisting  sail 
Type  of  step 


The  "Sailor's  Hornpipe' 
Look-out 

Rowing 

Hoisting  sail 


Hauling  in  rope 
Type  of  step 


To  face  page  i6g 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       169 

of  popular  understanding  of  all  that  pertains  to  them, 
the  Scotch  public  is  qualified  to  exercise  upon  dancing 
the  essential  functions  of  a  national  academy.  Stand- 
ards are  maintained  by  knowledge  on  the  part  of  spec- 
tators. Indifference  of  performance  or  freedom  with 
forms  is  quickly  reproved.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand, 
need  any  performer  remain  in  ignorance  as  to  just  what 
details  of  his  execution  are  lacking;  among  his  friends 
there  are  plenty  of  capable  critics.  We  noted  the  same 
conditions  in  Aragon,  where  the  general  love  of  the  Jota 
probably  would  have  kept  its  standards  of  execution, 
even  without  the  aid  of  professional  teachers — and  cer- 
tainly do  protect  it  against  the  subtracting  process 
effected  by  adding  novelties.  In  Italy  the  Tarantella  is 
cultivated  in  the  same  way,  in  Little  Russia  the  Cossack 
Dance,  and  in  Hungary  the  Czardas.  And  it  is  the 
force  of  educated  public  interest  behind  them  that  sus- 
tains them  in  a  class  approached,  in  requirements  of 
skill,  by  few  other  character  dances. 

The  accompanying  illustrations  from  work  by  Miss 
Margaret  Crawford  and  partner  demonstrate  the  inter- 
esting fact  that  the  Scotch,  developing  their  school  of 
execution  along  the  lines  dictated  by  their  own  keen  dis- 
cernment, arrive  at  a  conclusion  in  important  respects 
identical  with  the  creed  of  the  classic  ballet.  It  is  possi- 
ble that  the  dances  of  mountain  and  heather  were  influ- 
enced by  the  Pavane  and  the  Minuet  in  their  day — for 
Queen  Mary  had  her  masques  and  balls  and  pageants, 
like  other  monarchs  of  her  time.  But  even  that  will  not 
account  for  the  clean,  sharp  brilliancy  of  a  Highlander's 
battement  or  ballone.  In  so  many  essentials  his  dances 
are  at  variance  with  those  of  the  seventeenth-century 
courts  that  their  excellence  must  be  attributed  to  a  na- 


170  THE  DANCE 

tional  instinct  for  true  quality  of  beauty.  The  splen- 
didly erect  carriage  of  the  body,  the  straight  knee  of 
the  supporting  leg  during  a  step,  as  well  as  the  crisp, 
straight-knee  execution  of  a  grand  battement  (the 
Scotch  and  other  dancers  do  not  use  the  French  desig- 
nation of  steps,  but  the  general  observer  may  well  do 
so  for  the  sake  of  clearness),  might  have  come  direct 
from  the  French  Academy.  This  identity  is  in  manner, 
it  will  be  understood,  more  than  in  matter.  Like  all 
character  dancing,  the  Scotch  includes  in  its  vocabulary 
positions  and  steps  that  the  ballet  ignores.  Placing  the 
hands  on  the  hips ;  the  heel  on  the  ground  and  the  toe  up ; 
and  a  "rocking"  step,  consisting  of  rolling  from  side  to 
side  on  the  sides  of  the  feet — these  and  other  devices  are 
of  the  dances  of  outdoors.  In  the  case  of  the  Scotch 
they  are  so  admirably  incorporated  into  the  scheme  of 
sharp  line  and  movement  that  go  to  make  a  staccato  unit 
that — through  the  sheer  magic  worked  by  cohesion  of 
theme — they  avoid  the  plebeian  appearance  into  which 
such  movements  fall  when  not  artfully  combined. 

The  Scotch  Reel  has  a  good  deal  in  common  with  the 
Fling,  and  is  of  the  same  general  character.  It  is  cus- 
tomarily performed  by  two  couples.  Its  distinguishing 
feature  is  a  figure  eight,  traced  by  a  little  promenade, 
each  of  the  performers  winding  in  and  out  among  the 
other  three.  Even  this  promenade  is  performed  in  a 
sharp  skipping  step,  that  the  dance  may  lose  none  of  its 
national  flavour.  A  variation  of  this  dance  is  the  Reel 
of  Tulloch,  popular  in  all  parts  of  Scotland,  and  dis- 
tinguished principally  by  its  history.  Legend  places  its 
origin  in  a  country  church,  in  winter ;  while  the  congre- 
gation waited  for  the  belated  minister,  they  danced  to 
keep  warm,  and  in  the  course  of  the  dancing  evolved  a 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       171 

choreographic  composition  that  made  their  village  fa- 
mous. The  Strathspey  alluded  to  in  literature  appears 
also  to  have  been  a  variety  of  the  Reel. 

The  Shean  Treuse,  a  rollicking  dance  that  covers  a 
good  deal  of  ground,  is — according  to  legend — the  repre- 
sentation of  a  small  boy's  delight  with  his  first  pair  of 
trousers.  Naturally,  it  is  based  on  a  series  of  prancing 
steps,  in  each  of  which  the  leg  is  brought  to  horizontal 
to  keep  the  trousers  in  evidence. 

This  concludes  the  list  of  the  well-known  dances  of 
Scotland.  Of  the  number  the  most  representative,  or 
one  may  say  classic,  are  the  Sword  Dance  and  the  Fling. 

England  has  to  her  credit  one  dance,  notwithstanding 
all  that  has  been  said  and  written  to  the  disparagement 
of  her  originality  in  the  arts ;  and,  with  execution  to  help 
it,  a  very  respectable  dance  it  is,  as  well  as  a  monument 
to  a  social  element  that  has  contributed  powerfully  to 
England's  rank  among  the  nations.  The  dance  is  the 
Sailor's  Hornpipe. 

It  is  a  dance  of  character  in  the  truest  sense,  being 
based  on  the  movements  associated  with  the  sailor's 
duties.  Accompanying  himself  with  a  tuneful  patter  of 
foot-work,  the  performer  pantomimes  hauling  at  ropes, 
rowing,  standing  watch,  and  sundry  other  duties  of  the 
sea-dog  who  dealt  with  sails  and  not  with  coal.  The 
hands  are  placed  on  the  hips  palm  out,  to  avoid  touching 
the  clothing  with  the  tar  that — as  everybody  knows — 
always  covered  the  palms  of  the  deep-sea  sailor.  While 
not  in  any  sense  a  great  dance,  it  is  uncommonly  in- 
genious and  amusing  in  its  combination  of  patter  of 
steps  and  earnest  pantomime.  It  is  literally  a  sailor's 
chantey  sung  in  the  terms  of  movement  instead  of 
words  of  mouth;  even  to  its  division  into  short  stanzas 


172  THE  DANCE 

(one  for  each  of  the  duties  represented)  the  parallel  is 
exact.  Its  place  in  the  dancing  art  might  be  defined  as 
the  same  as  the  position  of  the  sailor's  chantey  in  music. 

In  England  there  has  been  a  recent  and  earnest  re- 
vival of  the  Morris  Dances,  accompanied  by  a  good  deal 
of  writing  on  the  subject.  In  England  they  have  the 
importance  of  being  English.  They  are  ''quaint/'  it  is 
true.  They  reflect  the  romping,  care-free  spirit  of 
Merry  England;  they  bring  to  the  cheek  of  buxom  lass 
the  blush  of  health ;  they  are  several  centuries  old ;  they 
follow  the  antique  usage  of  performance  to  accompani- 
ment sung  by  the  dancers.  But  their  composition — and 
its  absence — commends  them  to  the  attention  of  the  anti- 
quarian and  the  sociologist,  rather  than  that  of  a  seeker 
after  evolved  dancing. 

The  word  "Morris,"  according  to  the  suggestion  of- 
fered by  certain  scholars,  is  a  corruption  of  "Moorish" ; 
which  theory  of  its  derivation  is  not  confirmed  by  step, 
movement  or  sentiment  to  be  found  in  the  dance.  What 
does  seem  reasonably  possible  is  that  it  is  of  Gipsy 
derivation.  Gipsies  are  sometimes  known — in  Scotland 
at  least — as  "Egyptians" ;  so  why  not,  by  a  similar  abey- 
ance of  accuracy  in  England,  as  Moors? — a  process  of 
near-reasoning  the  value  of  whose  conclusion  is  nothing 
at  all.  At  any  rate,  the  Morris  dancers  have  a  tradition 
of  hanging  little  bells  around  their  arms  and  legs,  and 
decorating  themselves  with  haphazard  streamers  of  rib- 
bon, which  is  Gipsy-esque.  Stories  are  recorded  to  the 
effect  that  there  have  been  performers  who  tuned  their 
bells,  and  by  the  movements  of  the  dance  played  tunes  on 
them.  The  stories  offer  no  definite  information  as  to  the 
quality  of  dance  or  music. 

The  Morris  seems  to  have  been  a  dance  for  men  only. 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       173 

in  which  respect  it  was  unique  among  the  old  Enghsh 
forms  unearthed  in  the  recent  revival  of  interest.  Many 
of  these  dances  certainly  are  interesting,  if  not  in  actual 
choreographic  merit,  in  association.  Their  very  names 
are  rich  in  flavour,  such  as  All  in  a  Garden  Green,  The 
Old  Maid  in  Tears,  Hempstead  Heath,  Greensleeves 
(mentioned  in  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor),  Wasp's 
Maggott,  Dull  Sir  John,  and  others  equally  suggestive  of 
rustic  naturalness  and  fun.  Their  revivals  by  Miss 
Coles  and  Miss  Chaplin  include  full  directions  for  per- 
formance, which  is  simple.  Several  of  them  preserve 
the  ancient  usage  of  saluting  the  partner  with  a  kiss — 
which  is  not  mentioned  as  a  warning,  but  as  an  observa- 
tion merely. 

England  has  been  among  the  nations  to  preserve  the 
institution  of  danqing  around  a  pole — among  the  Eng- 
lish-speaking so  commonly  known  as  the  "Maypole"  that 
its  use  in  the  celebration  of  anything  but  the  coming  of 
spring  seems  incongruous.  Other  peoples,  neverthe- 
less, incorporate  it  into  religious  celebrations  and  what- 
not. The  device  of  suspending  ribbons  from  the  top  of 
the  pole,  and  weaving  them  around  it  by  means  of  an  in- 
terlacing figure  described  by  the  dancers,  seems  to  be 
imiversal.  The  steps  employed  are  the  simplest  possible 
— those  of  the  Waltz,  Polka,  or  Schottische,  varied  per- 
haps with  an  occasional  turn.  It  is  another  instance  of 
a  semiformalised  romp  called  by  the  title  of  dance.  In 
passing  it  may  be  noted  that  the  Maypole  has  become  a 
part  of  the  Mayday  celebration  of  the  New  York  public 
school  children — and  those  of  other  cities,  for  anything 
we  know  to  the  contrary.  Some  hundreds  of  poles  dis- 
tributed over  a  green,  each  with  its  brightly  coloured 
group  twinkling  around  it,  tickles  the  eye  with  a  feast 


174  THE  DANCE 

of  sparkle,  at  least.  The  same  outing  is  the  occasion 
of  an  exhibition  of  the  character  dancing  that  the  chil- 
dren have  learned  as  part  of  their  school  work  during 
the  preceding  year.  The  exhibited  skill  is  higher  than 
one  would  expect,  and  remarkable,  considering  the  dif- 
ficulties in  the  way  of  imparting  it.  In  one  direction  the 
celebration  probably  attains  to  the  superlative:  its  par- 
ticipants numbering  as  they  do  well  up  in  the  thousands, 
and  occupying  about  a  quarter-section  of  ground,  there 
is  nothing  in  history  to  indicate  that  it  does  not  consti- 
tute, in  point  of  sheer  size  and  numbers,  the  biggest 
ballet  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

Ireland  has  a  group  of  dances  exclusively  her  own, 
unique  in  structure,  and  developed  to  the  utmost  limit  of 
their  line  of  excellence.  Their  distinguishing  property 
is  complicated  rhythmic  music  of  the  feet.  The  Jig,  the 
Reel  and  the  Hornpipe  of  Ireland  are  at  once  the  most 
difficult  and  the  most  highly  elaborated  dances  of  the  clog 
and  shuffle  type  that  can  be  found.  In  them  are  pas- 
sages in  which  the  feet  tap  the  floor  seventy-five  times  in 
a  quarter  of  a  minute. 

They  have,  too,  the  art  that  interprets  the  character 
of  their  people.  But  it  is  not  the  Irishman  of  the  comic 
supplement  that  they  reveal.  Rather,  by  means  of  their 
own  vocabulary  of  suggestion,  the  eloquence  of  which 
begins  where  words  fail,  they  present  the  acute  Hiber- 
nian wit  that  animates  the  brain  of  Irishmen  like  Shaw. 
Intricate  combinations  of  keen,  exact  steps,  the  Irish 
dances  are  a  series  of  subtle  epigrams  directed  to  the  eye. 
And  like  the  epigrams  that  proceed  from  true  wit,  they 
are  expressed  so  modestly  that  their  significance  may  be 
quite  lost  on  an  intelligence  not  in  sympathy  with  the 
manner  of  thought  that  lies  back  of  them.     To  the  end 


Irish  Dances 
Mr.  Thomas  Hill  and  Mr.  Patrick  Walsh 

The  Jig  (i,  3,  4)  —The  Hornpipe  (2,  5)  —  The  Reel  (6,  7,  8) 


A  "Four-hand  Reel" 

Preparation  for  woman's  turn  under  arms  (i)  —  Characteristic  style  (2) 
—  A  turning  group  figure  (3) 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       175 

of  convincing  us  onlookers  that  this  everyday  world  is 
made  up  of  nothing  but  happiness,  the  music  of  tapping 
shoe  flatters  our  senses  without  shame,  chloroforms  rea- 
son and  shows  us  the  truth — that  our  minds  at  least  will 
float  in  the  air  like  dancers'  bodies,  if  we  but  abandon 
them  to  the  rhythmic  charm  that  coaxes  them  to  forget 
their  sluggishness.  Irish  dancing  has  too  often  been 
the  victim  of  caricature.  In  all  truth,  its  refined  in- 
tricacy makes  it  cousin  rather  to  the  Book  of  Kells, 
whose  ancient  decoration  of  rich  yet  simple  interlace- 
ment gives  it  place  among  the  masterpieces  of  the  book- 
designer's  art. 

The  intent  of  the  art  of  Irish  dancing  is  the  sooner 
understood  by  a  word  of  negative  description  to  begin 
with:  namely,  it  is  at  the  opposite  pole  from  dancing  of 
posture,  broad  movement,  or  pantomime.  All  its  re- 
sources, on  the  contrary,  are  concentrated  in  making 
music  of  the  feet.  Happy  music  it  is,  with  lightness  of 
execution  as  a  part  of  it.  That  no  incident  may  distract 
attention  from  foot-work,  the  body  is  held  almost  un- 
deviatingly  erect,  and  the  arms  passive  at  the  sides ;  and 
this  is  in  accordance  with  unquestioned  usage. 

Among  the  dancers  represented  in  the  accompanying 
photographs  is  Mr.  Thomas  Hill,  four  times  winner  of 
the  championship  of  Ireland.  "The  thing  of  greatest 
importance  in  Irish  dancing,"  Mr.  Hill  says,  "is  the 
music  of  the  shoes.  In  the  eleven  years  that  I  have  been 
dancing,  the  greater  part  of  my  attention  has  been  spent 
on  the  development  and  control  of  the  variety  of  tones 
that  can  be  produced  by  taps  of  heels  and  soles  on  the 
floor  and  against  each  other.  Style  is  necessary,  of 
course,  as  in  any  other  dancing,  and  so  is  exactness  in 
'tricky'  time.     But  control  of  a  good  variety  of  sounds, 


176  THE  DANCE 

which  is  the  most  difficult  part  of  Irish  dancing,  is  the 
most  important  because  it  is  the  most  Irish." 

Once  in  a  great  while  coincidence  puts  one  in  the  way 
of  hearing  the  work  of  a  virtuoso  on  the  snare-drum. 
Within  a  minute  the  effect  is  found  to  be  nothing  less 
than  hypnotic.  Every  one  within  hearing  is  patting 
time,  swaying  with  the  time,  restraining  the  most  urgent 
impulse  to  do  something  that  will  bring  every  fibre  of  his 
body  into  unison  with  that  inebriating  rhythm.  Now,  the 
feet  of  a  fine  Irish  dancer  are  drumsticks  as  amenable  to 
control  as  the  drummer's ;  notes  long  and  short,  dull  and 
sharp — he  has  all  the  drum's  variety.  No  resource  of 
syncopation,  emphasis,  or  change  is  unknown  to  the  Irish 
dances ;  the  rhythm  gets  into  the  blood — with  double  the 
seductiveness  of  sound  alone,  since  every  tap  on  the  tym- 
panum is  reinforced  by  the  same  metric  beating  on  the 
vision.  Joined  to  the  resulting  exhilaration  is  the  pecu- 
liar excitement  always  felt  in  the  presence  of  suspended 
gravitation;  for  no  less  than  suspended  gravitation  it  is 
when  the  foot  of  a  man  taps  the  ground  like  the  paw  of 
a  kitten,  and  the  body  floats  in  the  air  like  a  bird  that 
has  paused  but  will  not  alight.  The  good  Saint  Basil 
was  not  only  eloquent  when  he  asked  what  could  be  more 
blessed  than  to  imitate  on  earth  the  dancing  of  the 
angels.  His  question  carries  with  it  the  important  indi- 
cation that  he  had  seen  an  Irish  Reel  in  his  day.  Be- 
cause, among  all  the  dances  that  are  stepped  on  this  mor- 
tal earth,  what  other  is  so  light  that  the  saint  could  see 
in  it  the  pastime  of  angels? 

For  the  sake  of  accuracy,  let  it  not  be  thought  that 
the  steps  of  the  Reel  and  the  Jig,  and  the  Hornpipe  as 
well,  were  .not  old  while  Christianity  was  new.  Mr. 
Patrick  J.  Long,  himself  at  once  a  dancer  of  pronounced 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       177 

ability  and  a  well-read  scholar  on  Irish  history,  writes 
for  this  chapter:  "In  the  days  of  Druidism,  the  Irish 
nation  celebrated  an  annual  feast  lasting  six  days ;  three 
days  before  the  first  of  November,  and  three  days  after. 
Coming  after  the  season  of  harvest,  it  probably  was  like 
a  Thanksgiving.  The  celebration  was  called  in  Gaelic  a 
Feis  (pronounced  'fesh').  Now  it  was  the  custom,  at 
the  time  of  the  Feis  for  the  nobles  of  Ireland,  and  their 
ladies,  and  bards  and  harpists  from  far  and  near,  to 
gather  at  the  castle  of  the  king;  and  there  for  six  days 
there  were  competitions  in  all  kinds  of  music  and  dan- 
cing. 

"The  dance  that  was  popular  with  the  nobles  and  their 
ladies  was  called  the  Rinnce  Fadha  (pronounced  'reenka 
faudha').  This  we  know  was  a  dance  for  several  cou- 
ples. It  was  a  favourite  of  King  Leoghaire  (pro- 
nounced 'Leery'),  who  ruled  Ireland  when  St.  Patrick 
came  to  convert  the  people  from  paganism.  From  it  was 
derived  in  a  later  century  the  form  of  the  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley;  from  the  Sir  Roger  came  the  Virginia  Reel  of 
America. 

"The  dances  of  Ireland  are  variations  on  the  Reel,  Jig 
and  Hornpipe.  The  Reel  is  probably  the  most  classic; 
it  is  executed  in  a  gliding  movement,  and  is  speedy  and 
noiseless.  The  Jig  and  the  Hornpipe  have  a  good  deal 
in  common.  Both  use  clogging  and  shuffling;  that  is, 
taps  of  heel  or  sole  on  the  floor,  and  light  scrapes  of  the 
sole.  Of  the  two  the  Hornpipe  contains  the  more  clog- 
ging. But  it  is  richer  than  the  Clog  Dance  that  it  re- 
sembles more  or  less.  It  is  less  mechanical,  more  varied 
and  has  prettier  foot-work. 

"The  Reel  and  the  Jig  are  danced  as  solos  by  man  or 
woman,  by  two  men,  two  women,  a  couple,  two  men  and 


178  THE  DANCE 

a  woman,  two,  three,  four  or  eight  couples.  In  'set 
dances,'  as  they  are  called  when  performed  by  a  'set'  of 
couples,  the  steps  are  simpler  than  in  solo  work ;  and  the 
time  also  is  simpler  in  the  music  of  set  dances  than  in  the 
airs  used  to  accompany  solos  and  the  work  of  teams  of 
two.  There  are  Hop  Jigs,  Slip  Jigs,  Single  and  Triple 
Jigs  in  9-8  time.  Another  peculiarity  of  Irish  dancing, 
due  to  the  character  of  the  music,  is  in  the  irregularities 
of  repetition  of  the  work  of  one  leg  with  the  other  leg. 
The  right  leg  may  do  the  principal  work  through  eight 
bars ;  the  same  work  is  naturally  to  be  repeated  then  with 
the  left  leg;  but  often  the  composition  of  the  music  gives 
the  left  leg  only  six  bars.  This  is  good  because  un- 
expected, but  it  adds  a  great  deal  to  the  difficulty  of 
learning  Irish  dancing." 

The  above-named  dances  represent  the  utmost  de- 
velopment of  clogging,  which  is  tapping  of  heels,  and 
shuffling,  or  scraping  of  the  sole  on  the  floor.  Foot- 
work, especially  that  of  short  and  rapid  steps,  is  the  ele- 
ment impossible  to  show  in  pictorial  form.  Accompany- 
ing photographs,  therefore,  give  little  idea  of  the  charm 
of  the  art  of  Mr.  Hill,  Mr.  Long,  Mr.  Walsh,  Miss 
Murray  and  Miss  Reardon,  from  whom  they  were 
taken. 

Thanks  to  the  American  branch  of  the  Gaelic  League 
and  its  activity  in  the  cause  of  Ireland's  arts,  Irish 
dancing  is  in  a  flourishing  condition  in  this  country.  In 
intelligent  public  interest,  standards  of  excellence  and 
number  of  capable  performers,  America  now  leads  even 
Ireland.  Mr.  Hill  attributes  this  to  a  combination  of 
well-directed  enthusiasm,  and  the  practice  of  holding 
four  important  competitions  each  year.  These  are  di- 
vided among  as  many  cities.     Capable  management  at- 


The  "Irish  Jig" 

Miss  Murray,  Miss  Reardon,  Mr.  Hill,  Mr.  Walsh  —  Single  figure, 
Mr.  Patrick  J.  Long 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       179 

tracts  competitors  of  good  class  and  large  numbers,  and 
they  are  classified  in  such  a  way  that  there  is  hope  for  all. 
Liberality  in  prizes  is  an  added  stimulus.  All  told,  Mr. 
Hill  says  that  one  feis  of  the  four  annually  held  in  this 
country  accomplishes  as  much  in  the  interest  of  dancing 
as  is  done  in  Ireland  in  a  year. 

Dublin  and  Cork  each  has  its  annual  feis,  with  an  in- 
terval of  half-a-year  between  the  two.  Each  has  the 
dancing  championship  competition  among  its  features; 
Mr.  Hill's  title  was  won  in  1909,  '10  and  '11  at  Cork,  also 
in  191 1  at  Dublin.  As  the  Gaelic  League  has  promi- 
nent among  its  purposes  the  restoration  to  popular  use 
of  the  Gaelic  language,  dancing  is  only  one  of  several  ar- 
tistic contests.  Singing,  elocution,  and  conversation,  all 
in  the  ancient  Irish  tongue,  have  their  respective  laurel- 
seeking  votaries.  Superiority  in  the  playing  of  violin 
and  flute  is  rewarded,  as  in  playing  the  war  pipes  and 
union  pipes.  (War  pipes,  as  may  not  be  universally 
known,  are  the  Scotch  form  of  bagpipes,  played  by  lung 
power;  the  wind  for  union  pipes,  in  distinction,  is  sup- 
plied by  bellows  held  under  the  arm. )  And  until  within 
a  couple  of  years  lilting  has  been  competed  in — the  old 
singing  without  words,  "tra-la-la-dee"  sort  of  thing. 
The  irreverent  called  it  *'pussy-singing."  Athletic 
games  are  included  for  the  sake  of  variety.  Prizes  in  all 
events  are  usually  medals. 

The  feis  in  America  follows  the  same  model.  Dan- 
cing enjoys  a  gratifying  popularity.  Good  work  always 
incites  the  spectators  to  shout  their  enthusiasm.  With 
a  prevailing  eagerness  to  learn  to  judge  it  more  exactly, 
and  a  highly  respectable  knowledge  of  it  at  the  present 
moment,  there  exists  also  that  most  wholesome  adjunct 
to  interest,  a  division  of  beliefs  as  to  school.     The  Cork 


i8o  THE  DANCE 

technique  is  comparatively  short  in  step,  and  very  pre- 
cise ;  Limerick  favours  a  rather  looser  type  of  movement. 
And  there  comes  in  the  world-old  argument  between  the 
Academic  and  (by  whatever  name  it  matters  not)  the 
Impressionistic  creeds.  Each  claims  to  represent  the 
true  Hibernianism. 

Sweden,  during  a  period  beginning  a  few  years  ago, 
has  taken  up  an  enthusiastic  revival  of  the  dances  of  the 
Scandinavian  world.  The  movement  began  with  the 
foundation  by  the  late  Dr.  Hazelius  of  the  Museum  of 
the  North,  and  is  carried  on  by  his  son. 

The  Museum  was  planned  to  bring  together  a  repre- 
sentation of  Scandinavia  of  old,  in  such  a  complete  way 
as  to  show  not  only  products  and  methods  of  manufac- 
ture, but  modes  of  life  and  social  customs.  The  result 
is  unique  among  undertakings  of  the  kind.  In  a  park 
called  the  Skansen  are  preserved  the  Scandinavian  flora 
and  fauna,  in  appropriate  surroundings.  Farms  are 
cultivated  in  the  manner  of  the  various  provinces,  and  on 
the  farms  are  their  appropriate  buildings,  characteristic 
in  every  detail.  To  complete  the  re-creation  of  antiquity, 
churches  and  all  the  other  structures  pertinent  to  com- 
munity life  are  included. 

The  numerous  people  required  to  animate  such  an  es- 
tablishment, including  as  it  does  accommodations  for  vis- 
itors, are  the  expositors  of  the  national  dances.  Farm- 
ers, shoemakers,  waiters  in  the  cafes,  are  required  to 
learn  and  practise  them,  and  present  them  publicly  three 
times  a  week.  It  goes  without  saying  that  they  dress  at 
all  times  in  the  costume  of  the  locality  of  which  they  are 
representatives. 

The  influences  of  the  Skansen  have  been  of  a  sort  to 
gratify  its  founder.     Society  now,  as  a  custom,  dresses 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       181 

itself  for  garden  parties  in  the  picturesque  gaiety  and 
brilliant  colour  of  old  Scandinavia,  and  dances  the  Skra- 
lat  and  Kadriljs  of  the  peasants.  A  saying  has  sprung 
up  that  "dancing  is  a  form  of  patriotism."  The  senti- 
ment has  impressed  itself  no  less  upon  the  working  peo- 
ple than  upon  the  rich.  Children  receive  dancing  in- 
struction gratis  in  the  Skansen,  and  knowledge  has 
spread  into  all  parts  of  Sweden.  Now,  instead  of  the 
Polka,  which  fifty  years  ago  swept  over  Scandinavia  and 
fastened  itself  on  the  land  with  a  hold  that  smothered 
every  other  dance,  are  to  be  seen  the  merry  steps  and 
forms  that  are  distinctively  of  the  Norseland,  accom- 
panied by  the  old  music.  A  princess  of  the  royal  house 
sanctions  the  revival  of  Scandinavianism  (if  the  word 
be  permitted)  to  the  extent  of  dressing  herself  and  the 
servants  at  her  summer-place  according  to  the  new-old 
modes.  She  is  popular  and  the  movement  is  strength- 
ened accordingly. 

The  dances  are  simple  in  step,  though  often  compli- 
cated in  figure;  lively  and  gay  in  manner,  and  rich  in 
pantomime.  Accepted  standards  of  execution  require 
decided  grace  and  a  good  style.  Gustavus  III,  when  he 
visited  France,  is  said  to  have  been  deeply  impressed  by 
the  exquisite  dancing  of  Marie  Antoinette  and  her  court. 
The  element  of  beauty  to  be  seen  in  Swedish  dancing  is 
supposed  to  be  due  in  part,  at  least,  to  that  royal  visit. 

One  of  the  most  pleasing  dance-arrangements  is  in- 
spired by  the  work  of  the  weaver,  with  the  happy  changes 
of  effect  constantly  wrought  by  the  action  of  the  loom. 
The  Vafva  Vadna  this  dance  is  called.  It  is  highly  com- 
plicated, the  stretched  threads  are  simulated  in  the  lines 
of  performers,  through  whom  flashes  back  and  forth  the 
girl  who  represents  the  movements  of  the  shuttle.     Rich 


i82  THE  DANCE 

variety  is  gained  by  involved  intercrossings  of  the  lines 
of  boys  and  girls. 

The  taming  of  womankind  is  the  motive  of  the  panto- 
mimic Daldans.  Over  the  head  of  the  meekly  kneeling 
woman  the  man  swings  his  foot,  as  a  symbol ;  in  another 
figure  the  woman's  coquetry  reduces  the  man  to  helpless- 
ness. The  Vingakersdans  pantomimes  the  competition 
of  two  women  for  the  same  man.  The  favoured  one 
seats  herself  a  moment  on  the  man's  knee,  and  finishes 
the  number  by  waltzing  with  him;  while  the  defeated 
charmer  bites  her  nails  with  vexation. 

These  are  characteristic  specimens  of  a  very  numer- 
ous group.  Their  revival  seems  to  progress  more  rap- 
idly in  the  villages  than  in  the  big  cities — interesting 
as  a  case  of  the  country  leading  the  cities  in  a  movement 
of  modernism.  Many  of  the  pantomimes  are  based  on 
work  from  which  the  rural  population  is  less  remote  than 
are  those  who  dwell  in  cities.  The  movements  of  mak- 
ing a  shoe  are  known  to  every  villager ;  he  has  watched 
the  cobbler  many  a  time,  and  known  him  usually  as  the 
local  philosopher.  Upon  the  village,  therefore,  no  touch 
of  character  in  the  Cobblers'  Dance  would  be  lost.  The 
humours  of  harvesting  might  in  like  manner  fail  to  reach 
a  city  audience  without  the  aid  of  spoken  word ;  harvest, 
with  other  elemental  work,  provides  many  of  the  Scan- 
dinavian dance  motives. 

Holland  and  Belgium  are  alike  unproductive  of  dan- 
cing of  much  choreographic  value.  The  strength  of  the 
people  is  not  accompanied  by  either  the  lightness  or 
agility  found  in  dancing  nations.  As  a  coincidence,  it 
is  notable  that  dancing  does  not  flourish  in  regions  of 
wooden  shoes.  The  Dutch  have  a  species  of  sailors' 
dance  called  the  Mdtelot,  performed  by  groups  of  men 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       183 

and  women ;  but  it  is  a  romp  and  little  or  nothing  more. 
This  is  characteristic  of  the  dances  of  the  Netherlands, 
as  is  confirmed  by  genre  pictures  from  the  time  of 
Teniers  down  to  the  present. 

The  Walts,  it  should  be  said  at  this  point,  is  universal. 
If  ever  it  is  asserted  that  the  people  of  a  locality  do  not 
dance,  an  exception  may  be  made  to  cover  the  Walts,  so 
long  as  the  locality  referred  to  is  in  the  Occident.  The 
seeming  caution  with  which  peasants  perform  their 
Waltzes  practically  removes  them  from  the  category  of 
dancing,  though  not  from  that  of  humour. 

France,  the  Eden  of  the  Grand  Ballet,  the  home  of  a 
race  of  lovers  of  beauty,  might  be  expected  to  abound  in 
rich  character  dances;  but  the  exact  reverse  is  true. 
The  people  of  the  country  are,  first  of  all,  workers;  the 
dances  that  enliven  their  fetes  are  the  careless  celebra- 
tion of  children  released  from  confining  tasks.  The 
principal  cities  have  their  opera  ballets ;  through  them  is 
supplied  the  national  demand  for  choreographic  beauty. 

The  old  name  of  la  Bourree  survives  in  Auvergne. 
In  its  present  form  it  bears  no  resemblance  to  the  old 
Bourree  of  eighteenth-century  courts,  but  is  one  of  those 
informal  frolics  of  an  indefinite  number  of  couples,  hand- 
clapping,  finger-snapping,  and  energetic  bounding,  min- 
gled with  shouts  of  joy. 

The  Farandole  is  popular  in  the  South  of  France. 
Under  its  name  a  chain  of  boys  and  girls,  united  by  hand- 
kerchiefs that  they  hold,  "serpentines"  and  zigzags  in 
directions  dictated  by  the  caprice  of  their  leader,  perhaps 
traversing  the  length  of  the  streets  of  a  village.  From 
time  to  time  the  leading  couple  will  halt  and  form  their 
arms  into  an  arch  for  those  following  to  pass  under ;  or 
again  stop  the  procession  in  such  a  way  as  to  wind  up 


i84  THE  DANCE 

the  line  into  a  compact  mass.  Again  the  game  partakes 
of  the  nature  of  "follow  the  leader,"  the  whole  party 
imitating  the  leader  in  any  antic  he  may  perform. 

The  ancient  Contredanses — which  word  England 
changed  to  Country  Dances,  of  frequent  mention  in  story 
— were  the  roots  of  modern  Quadrilles.  These,  how- 
ever, are  polished  out  of  any  semblance  to  character 
dances;  they  are  of  the  ballroom  and  infinitely  removed 
from  the  soil. 

Germany,  with  its  fondness  for  legend  and  care  in  its 
preservation,  would  be  a  fertile  field  for  search  on  the 
part  of  a  compiler  of  ancient  observances  more  or  less 
allied  to  dancing.  A  specimen  of  the  latter  is  the  Perch- 
tentanz  of  Salzburg.  Perchta  is  another  name  for 
Freya,  Woden's  consort  and  the  mother  of  the  North- 
men's gods.  She  is  powerful  even  in  these  modern 
times,  and  malicious  unless  propitiated  by  proper  for- 
mulae of  actions  and  words.  Placing  a  spoonful  of  food 
from  each  dish  of  the  Christmas  dinner  for  her  on  the 
fence  outside  the  house  is  one  of  the  tributes.  She  has 
spirit-followers:  some  kindly,  called  "schon  Perchten," 
others  wild  and  fierce,  known  as  "schiachen  Perchten." 
The  latter  alight  on  houses  and  scream  mischievously, 
lure  men  into  danger  and  punish  undiscovered  crimes. 

At  irregular  intervals  is  performed  the  Perchtentans; 
not  apparently  as  an  act  of  propitiation,  but  presumably 
having  that  motive  as  its  origin.  Good  and  evil  Perch- 
ten  both  are  represented.  On  an  accompanying  page  of 
European  miscellany  is  a  drawing  of  one  of  the  "beauti- 
ful." The  huge  plaques  are  covered  with  sparkling 
trinkets  and  adorned  with  braid,  ribbon  and  embroidery. 
Stuffed  birds  are  also  popular  for  their  decorations;  a 
dozen  of  them  may  be  affixed  to  the  lower  plaque,  a 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       185 


From  Various  Folk-dances. 
Scandinavian.  Russian. 

Hungarian.  Scandinavian. 

From  the  Perchtentans  of  Salzburg.         Bavarian. 
Russian  Court  (Princess  Chirinski-Chichmatoff.) 


i86  THE  DANCE 

smaller  number  to  the  upper ;  an  ambitious  crown  to  the 
whole  is  sometimes  seen  in  the  form  of  a  peacock  with 
spread  wings.  The  structure  is  supported  by  a  rod  run- 
ning down  the  bearer's  back,  and  fastened  to  him  by 
belts.  Its  weight  prohibits  any  movement  to  which  the 
word  "dancing"  applies  except  as  a  convenience;  but  a 
series  of  slow  and  necessarily  careful  evolutions  per- 
formed by  the  wearers  of  these  displays  is  called  a 
dance,  nevertheless.  Meantime  the  "fierce  Perchten," 
made  up  with  masks  as  demoniac  as  possible,  run  about 
among  the  legs  of  the  crowd  and  do  their  best  to  startle 
people.  The  spirit  accompanying  the  celebration  is 
levity,  modified  only  by  the  sincere  admiration  consid- 
ered due  the  serious  decorations.  They  represent  a 
great  deal  of  work  and  considerable  money. 

In  various  parts  of  Savoy  is  performed  on  St.  Roch's 
Day  what  is  called  the  Bacchu-ber.  On  a  platform 
erected  in  front  of  a  church,  and  decorated  with  gar- 
lands and  fir-trees,  a  group  of  men  dance  with  short 
swords ;  passing  under  bridges  of  swords,  forming  chains 
by  grasping  one  another's  weapons,  and  so  on.  That 
its  origin  is  pre-Christian  seems  a  reasonable  conjecture; 
but  nothing  specific  is  known  about  it. 

Munich  celebrates  with  dancing  an  episode  connected 
with  an  epidemic  of  cholera:  the  guild  of  coopers  de- 
cided that  the  care  the  people  were  taking  against  ex- 
posure was  defeating  its  purpose,  since  it  was  keeping 
them  indoors  to  the  detriment  of  health.  They  there- 
fore went  out  and  enjoyed  themselves  as  usual,  for  the 
sake  of  example.  Others  did  the  same,  and  the  plague 
ceased.  Periodically  the  brave  coopers  are  honoured, 
therefore,  by  dances  of  large  companies  of  people,  who 
carry  garlanded  arches  and  execute  triumphal  figures. 


^^EB^'"     ^'n^^^^MM^M^I 

i^^H 

r^ 

The  "Schuhplatteltanz" 
Herr  and  F'raii  Nagel 


A  swing 


A  turn 


The  "Schuhplatteltanz"  of  Bavaria 

Preparing  a  turn  (i)  —  A  lift  (2)  —  Starting  woman's  series  of  turns  (3)  —  Start 
of  woman's  turns  (4)  —  Man  fans  her  along  with  hands  (5)  —  Finish  of  dance  (6) 


To  face  page  187 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       187 

The  foregoing  instances  are  no  more  than  a  specimen 
of  the  varieties  of  tradition  that  dancing  may  commem- 
orate. Europe  collectively  doubtless  will  produce  thou- 
sands of  such  dances,  when  the  task  of  collecting  them  is 
entered  upon  with  the  necessary  combination  of  leisure 
and  zeal. 

Bavaria's  Schuhplatteltanz  is  altogether  delightful  in 
itself,  without  aid  from  history  or  tradition  to  supple- 
ment its  interest.  It  is  full  of  a  quaint  Tyrolean  grace 
mingled  with  happy  and  delicate  grotesquery.  Women 
it  causes  to  spin  as  though  they  were  some  quaint  species 
of  combination  doll  and  top;  the  atmosphere  that  sur- 
rounds a  marvellous  and  pretty  mechanical  toy  is  pre- 
served in  a  delicate  unreality  in  the  pantomime  and  in 
the  treatment  throughout. 

It  is  accompanied  by  zithers,  instruments  which  them- 
selves sing  of  a  world  suspended  somewhere  in  the  air. 
In  silvery,  floating  tones  they  play  less  a  waltz  than  the 
dream  of  a  waltz,  in  sounds  as  unmaterial  as  the  illu- 
sive voice  of  an  yEolian  harp. 

A  little  opening  promenade ;  a  few  bars  of  the  couple's 
waltzing  together — in  steps  infinitesimal,  prim  with 
conscious  propriety.  The  man  raises  the  girl's  hand 
and  starts  her  spinning.  She  neither  retards  nor  helps, 
being  a  little  figure  of  no  weight,  moved  solely  by  power 
from  without  itself.  Her  skirt  stands  out  as  straight 
and  steady  as  though  it  were  cardboard;  her  partner 
must  lean  far  over  now,  not  to  touch  it  and  spoil  the 
spin.  Now  she  is  whirling  perfectly;  with  a  parting 
impulse  to  her  arm,  he  releases  her.  On  she  turns,  at 
a  speed  steady  as  clockwork,  revolving,  as  a  top  will, 
slowly  around  a  large  circle. 

Her  partner  follows,  beating  time  in  a  way  that  be- 


i88  IHE  DANCE 

wilders  eye  and  ear  alike;  for  his  hands  pat  shoes  and 
leather  breeches  with  a  swiftness  incredible  and  ecstatic. 
Of  this  perhaps  sixteen  bars  when,  as  though  his  part- 
ner were  beginning  to  "run  down,"  he  starts  blow- 
ing her  along  with  vigorous  puffs.  Nevertheless,  she 
is  slowing  down ;  the  skirt  is  settling.  He  reaches  over 
it,  gets  his  hands  on  her  waist.  To  the  last  the  spin- 
ning illusion  is  preserved  by  an  appearance  of  her  ro- 
tary motion  being  stopped  only  by  the  pressure  of  the 
man's  hand  as  a  brake. 

The  foregoing  interpretation  is  suggested  by  the  deli- 
cate work  of  Herr  and  Frau  Nagel,  and  the  company 
with  which  they  are  associated.  It  is  a  dance  whose 
fancy  easily  could  disappear  under  its  mechanics,  if 
performed  without  imagination. 

Having  caught  his  partner  after  her  spin,  waltzed 
again  with  her  for  a  few  bars,  and  lifted  her  up  at 
arm's  length  in  sheer  playfulness,  the  man  joins  arms 
with  her  in  such  fashion  as  to  form  almost  a  duplicate 
of  the  "mirror"  figure  of  the  Minuet.  The  courtliness 
of  the  cavalier  in  the  Minuet  is  matched  by  adroitness 
on  the  part  of  the  schuhplatteltanzer ;  he  contrives  to 
draw  his  partner's  head  nearer  and  nearer  to  his,  as 
they  walk  around  in  a  lessening  circle.  Finally,  when 
the  circle  of  the  promenade  can  become  no  smaller,  and 
the  faces  have  come  close  to  the  imaginary  mirror 
framed  by  the  arms,  he  suddenly  but  daintily  kisses  her 
lips. 

Germany  is  the  home  of  the  Waltz,  of  which  it  has 
evolved  several  varieties.  The  Rheinlander  Waltz  is 
perhaps  the  most  popular.  In  one  form  or  another  it 
has  spread  through  the  Balkan  countries;  not,  how- 
ever, with  any  apparent  detriment  to  the  native  dances. 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       189 

because  of  these  dances'  natural  crudeness.  Servia, 
Montenegro  and  the  neighbouring  monarchies  celebrate 
weddings  and  christenings  and  enliven  picnics  with  a 
"round"  called  in  Servian  language  the  Kolo,  that  em- 
ploys the  simple  old  figures  of  the  bridge  of  arms  and 
the  like,  but  which,  as  to  step,  is  quite  formless.  Col- 
our in  the  costumes  goes  far  to  provide  spectacular  in- 
terest to  these  exuberant  frolics.  The  linen  gowns  of 
the  women  are  embroidered  in  big — and  good — designs 
of  two  distinct  reds,  scarlet  and  rose ;  emerald-green  and 
a  warm  yellow-green ;  the  most  brilliant  of  yellows ;  wine- 
colour  and  blue.  As  is  frequently  found  in  a  region 
that  has  kept  a  scheme  of  design  through  a  sufficient 
number  of  generations  to  allow  the  formation  of  tradi- 
tions based  on  long  experiment,  the  seemingly  impossi- 
ble is  accomplished  by  the  peasant  women  of  the  Bal- 
kans: the  colours  whose  enumeration  on  the  same  page 
would  seem  outrageous  are,  in  practical  application, 
brought  into  harmony.  It  is  a  question  of  proportionate 
size  of  spots  of  colour,  and  their  juxtaposition.  The 
results  of  using  the  same  colours  in  new  designs  is  to 
be  seen  in  the  expressions  of  sundry  new  schools  of 
painting  that  refuse  to  acknowledge  limitations. 

Men's  sleeves  and  waistcoats  are  frequently  embroid- 
ered in  the  same  way  as  the  jacket  and  sleeves  of  the 
women,  as  exemplified  in  the  accompanying  photographs 
of  Madame  Koriti<;.  Loose  linen  trousers,  which  are 
sometimes  worn,  may  be  likewise  decorated.  In  the 
sunlight  and  in  appropriate  surroundings,  a  perform- 
ance of  the  Kolo  should  be  a  sight  to  dispel  trouble, 
whatever  its  deficiencies  from  the  point  of  view  of  dan- 
cing. 

Greece,  too,  diverts  itself  with  rustic  rounds,  as  form- 


190  THE  DANCE 

less  as  in  other  lands.  Of  the  Hellas  that  gave  the 
Occident  its  civilisation  there  remain  some  architectural 
ruins,  to  which  latter-day  inhabitants  of  the  land  may 
have  given  some  care;  and  certain  statues,  preserved 
in  the  museums  of  other  lands.  For  Hellenic  ideals  and 
Attic  salt,  search  the  hat-boy  at  the  entrance  to  the  res- 
taurant. The  Greek  of  to-day  is  a  composite  of  Turk 
and  Slav;  his  dances  have  neither  the  grace  of  the  one 
nor  the  fire  of  the  other.  The  discovery  in  Greece  of 
survivors  of  ancient  dances — which  discovery  is  occa- 
sionally asserted — may  have  a  basis  in  fact;  but  more 
likely  its  foundation  is  in  a  similarity  between  an  an- 
cient and  a  modern  word.  But  enough  of  disappoint- 
ments and  of  great  things  lost. 

Hungary,  Russia  and  Poland  have  a  family  of  strictly 
national  dances  that  not  only  take  a  position  among 
the  world's  best  character  dances;  without  departing 
from  their  true  premise  as  expressions  of  racial  tem- 
perament, some  of  them  attain  to  the  dignity  of  great 
romantic  art,  combined  with  optical  beauty  of  the  high- 
est order,  A  Czardas  in  one  of  the  Pavlowa  pro- 
grammes (season  19 13-14)  showed  qualities  of  choreo- 
graphic composition  that  were  equalled,  in  that  enter- 
tainment, only  by  the  ballet  arrangements  of  the  most 
capable  composers  whose  works  were  represented.  The 
juxtaposition  of  ballet  and  character  numbers,  per- 
formed with  the  same  skill  and  accompanied  by  the  same 
orchestra,  furnished  an  uncommonly  good  measure  of 
the  folk-dances'  actual  merit. 

The  Czardas,  the  Mazurka  and  the  Cossack  Dance 
of  Russia  and  the  Ohertass  of  Poland  form  a  group  that 
occupy  in  the  dance  the  place  that  Liszt's  "Hungarian 
Rhapsody"  fills  in  music:  they  are  the  candid  revela- 


Start  of  a  turn 
An  emphasis 


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The  "Kolo"  of  Servia 
Madame  Koritic 


A  bridge  of  arms 


Progress  of  a  turn 
A  lift 


Poses  from  Slavonic  Dancfs 
Miss  Lydia  Lopoukowa 


Coquetry 


Petulance 


Indifference 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       191 

tion  of  the  heart  of  a  people  simple,  sympathetic,  un- 
restrainedly romantic,  violently  impulsive.  Each  rep- 
resents an  exciting  diversity  of  ammunition,  fired  in 
one  rousing  volley;  an  expression  to  which  one  may 
become  accustomed,  but  which  always  remains  unfa- 
miliar, and  which  always  produces  an  intoxicating 
shock.  The  abrupt  changes  of  movement  from  slow 
to  fast,  from  furious  speed  to  a  dead  standstill;  the  re- 
current crescendo  from  short,  close  movement  to  broad 
sweeps,  open  jete  turns,  and  the  lowest  of  "dips";  the 
diverse  effects  gained  by  play  of  rhythm — such  effects 
are  indescribable  in  word  or  picture.  Fortunately, 
however,  characteristic  poses  are  within  the  range  of 
the  snapshot;  so  also,  to  an  extent,  is  the  expression 
of  human  moods — if  portrayed  by  rare  pantomimic  abil- 
ity. 

Possession  of  such  ability,  backed  by  the  unfettered 
imagination  of  the  Tartar  and  accompanied  by  superla- 
tive artistry,  describes  Miss  Lydia  Lopoukowa.  To 
her  great  kindness  this  book  is  indebted  for  the  accom- 
panying photographs  representing  characteristic  poses 
and  moods  of  northern  Slavonic  dancing.  Taken  from 
the  work  of  such  an  artist,  the  pictures  represent  an 
idealisation,  or  perfection,  of  their  subjects.  They 
show  movements  of  the  dances  themselves,  in  their  spirit, 
without  the  usual  limitations  imposed  by  physique.  The 
clean-cut  definition  of  pose;  the  co-ordination  of  pose 
and  features  in  all  the  expressions  of  allurement,  appeal, 
petulance,  esctasy — these  represent  a  standard  at  which 
the  merely  mortal  dancer  aims,  but  a  conjunction  of 
conditions  that  one  may  hope  to  see  accomplished  few 
times  in  the  course  of  one  life. 

Yet,  as  noted  before,  the  dances  are  so  composed  that, 


192  THE  DANCE 

performed  with  a  degree  of  skill  not  uncommon  in  their 
native  land,  they  are  rich  and  surprising.  In  steps,  the 
Russian,  Austrian  and  Polish  group  have  most  of  their 
material  in  common :  naturally,  since  they  are  united  by 
ties  of  race.  The  salient  point  by  which  each  dance  is 
distinguished,  in  the  eye  of  the  spectator,  is  one  big 
step. 

The  Czardas  employs  a  long  glided  step  that  is  all  its 
own.  The  active  foot  is  started  well  to  the  rear,  and 
glided  forward;  the  glide  is  accompanied  by  a  very  low 
plie  of  the  supporting  knee ;  as  the  active  foot  comes  into 
advanced  position,  the  dancer  sharply  straightens  up, 
rises  to  the  ball  of  the  supporting  foot,  and  continues 
the  advancing  foot  forward  and  upward  in  a  rapid 
kick.  The  masculine  version  drops  the  body  lower,  and 
kicks  higher,  than  the  feminine;  but  even  the  latter's 
change  of  elevation  remains  fixed  in  the  memory. 

In  the  Ohertass,  the  man  goes  into  the  low  stooping 
position,  in  connection  with  executing  a  very  individual 
rond  de  jamhe.  At  the  moment,  he  is  face  to  face  with 
his  partner,  his  hands  on  the  sides  of  her  waist,  her 
hands  on  his  shoulders;  after  a  swift  step-turn  in  the 
usual  direction,  he  takes  a  long  step  backward  (she 
forward),  and,  keeping  his  right  leg  extended  before 
him,  stoops  until  he  is  squatting  on  his  left  heel;  the 
right  leg,  held  straight,  is  swept  rapidly  around  to  the 
rear;  meanwhile  the  couple  continues  to  turn.  The 
man's  momentum  turns  him  until  he  faces  in  the  same 
direction  with  his  partner.  He  springs  up  on  her  right 
side,  and  goes  with  her  into  a  short,  fast  polka-step. 
During  the  turn,  the  woman  keeps  hold  of  the  man  to 
prevent  centrifugal  force  from  flinging  him  into  space. 

In  the  Mazurka  (not  the  ballroom  version)  the  same 


PosKs  FROM  Slavonic  Dances 
Miss  Lydia  Lopoukowa 

Negation  (i)  —  Fear  (2)  —  Supplication  (3)  —  An  emphasis  (4) 


Poses  from  Slavonic  Dances 
Miss  Lydia  Lopoukowa 

Characteristic  gesture  (i)  —  Characteristic  step  (2)  —  Characteristic  gesture  (3) 
—  Characteristic  step  (4)  —  Same,  another  view  (5)  —  Ecstasy  (6)  — 
The  claim  of  beauty  (7) 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       193 

step,  modified  as  to  elevation,  is  performed  by  both  man 
and  woman,  alternately,  during  certain  passages. 

The  Szolo,  a  Hungarian  dance  introduced  into  Amer- 
ica by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hartmann,  gives  the  woman  a 
unique  turn  in  the  air.  The  woman  standing  at  her 
partner's  right,  the  two  join  their  crossed  hands  above 
her  head,  she  reaching  up,  he  downward.  She  is  turned 
by  being  swung  through  the  air — in  a  horizontal  posi- 
tion— finishing  on  her  partner's  left  side.  The  arms,  of 
course,  have  "unwound"  from  their  first  position,  and 
re-crossed  in  its  converse  position.  This  movement, 
masterfully  executed,  is  one  of  the  devices  by  which  the 
dance  contradicts  gravity.  Ill  done,  of  course,  it  would 
be  as  painful  for  spectator  as  performer. 

But  these  dances  are  not  often  ill  done — at  least  by 
the  people  to  whom  they  belong.  We  are  credibly  in- 
formed that  the  problems  of  involved  steps  and  tricky 
tempo,  exacting  requirements  of  agility  and  expression, 
are  met  with  a  laugh;  that,  while  great  virtuosity  is 
naturally  rare,  real  elegance  of  execution  is  the  rule. 
Which  leads  back,  of  course,  to  national  choreographic 
traditions  and  ideals.  The  artistic  level  they  occupy  in 
Russia  (and  presumably  Hungary  and  Poland)  is  indi- 
cated in  a  few  lines  of  a  letter  to  the  authors  from  Prin- 
cess Chirinski-Chichmatoff,  of  Moscow.  Apart  from 
its  value  as  quite  the  finest  statement  of  the  meaning  of 
character  dancing  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  literature 
of  choreography,  the  paragraph  has  the  interest  of 
showing  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  folk-dancing  of 
northeastern  Europe  is  good: 

In  every  dance  the  principal  things  are  the  harmony 
(i)  of  movements  with  the  rhythm  of  the  music,  (2)  of 
movements  with  the  subject  that  the  music  represents, 


194  THE  DANCE 

and  (3)  of  the  sentiments  with  the  pantomime,  to  give 
a  certain  impression;  and  finally  this,  that  it  should  be 
a  dance  which  has  exclusively  the  national  character, 
with  the  movements  natural  [familiers]  to  a  certain 
people  and  to  a  certain  epoch.  In  the  dance  the  artist 
ought  to  show  all  the  richness  of  his  soul;  ought  to 
instil  into  his  movements  all  of  that  which  the  scidptor 
puts  into  his  marble;  while  above  the  idea  and  the  mood 
ought  to  be  felt  the  beauty  and  freedom  of  movements 
and  lines. 

Quite  a  difference  between  that  and  some  other  na- 
tional ideas  of  character  dancing! 

Describing  her  national  dance  (i.  e.,  the  Cossack 
Dance  and  its  derivatives)  she  writes: 

'The  Russian  dance  is  composed  in  two  parts,  Adagio 
and  Allegro.  In  each  part  we  see  the  traits  most  nat- 
ural to  the  people,  and  which  were  formed  in  historic 
times,  under  other  conditions. 

"i.  Adagio:  length,  freedom,  tranquillity  of  move- 
ment with  much  dignity  and  grace,  and  with  a  little 
softness  and  simplicity;  all  relating  to  the  traits  that 
were  formed  during  the  period  when  all  Russian  women 
passed  the  whole  time  in  their  teremas  (house  of  Rus- 
sian style),  retired  from  the  world,  working  and  sing- 
ing, thinking  melancholy  thoughts  about  life  but  never 
seeing  it  in  reality,  never  leaving  the  house  nor  being 
seen  except  on  the  rare  occasion  of  visits. 

"2.  Allegro:  expresses,  with  the  gay  and  popular 
songs,  the  vivacity,  the  carelessness,  the  humour  and  the 
pleasantry  that  were  born  in  a  people  still  a  little  bar- 
barous and  simple,  whose  sadness  and  gaiety  were 
somewhat  naive.  All  the  traits  natural  to  the  Rus- 
sian people  are  portrayed  in  their  national  dance  and 


EUROPEAN  FOLK-DANCING       195 

in  the  simple  music  created  from  the  most  popular  and 
beloved  songs." 

Within  the  form  so  sketched  there  is  room  for  a  wide 
variety  of  interpretation.  The  peasant  expresses  the 
motives  of  happiness  and  vivacity  in  movements  that 
translate  the  joy  of  an  almost  v^ild  man.  An  advance 
while  maintaining  a  low  squatting  position,  the  spring 
for  each  step  coming  from  a  leg  bent  double,  is  a  gro- 
tesquery  trying  to  the  strength  of  the  toughest  thighs. 
Still  more  difficult  and  as  grotesque  is  a  movement  of 
squatting  on  one  heel,  and  rapidly  tracing  circles  with 
the  extended  leg  held  straight,  as  though  it  were  the 
arm  of  a  compass.  The  feminine  version  of  the  move- 
ments is  less  violent;  but  the  Allegro  portion  of  the 
woman's  work  is  nevertheless  tremendously  animated 
in  the  rustic  version  of  this  dance. 

As  the  court  of  seventeenth-century  France  took  the 
dances  of  the  peasant  and  modified  them  into  adorn- 
ments of  ceremonious  occasions,  so  polite  society  has 
done  in  Russia.  The  Court  Dance  is  the  result.  Re- 
finement has  not  robbed  it  of  the  national  qualities  de- 
scribed by  Princess  Chirinski;  her  own  performance  of 
it  demonstrates,  in  almost  spiritual  terms,  the  "dignity 
and  grace,"  the  "little  softness  and  simplicity,"  the 
"sadness  and  gaiety"  that  she  puts  into  words. 
Through  her  performance,  too,  runs  an  undercurrent  of 
the  indefinable — a  hint  of  latent  mystery  that  is  not 
European.  It  is  a  quality  not  infrequently  sensed  in  the 
work  of  artists  of  Tartar  blood ;  it  is  a  trace  of  the  Ori- 
ent. 


CHAPTER  IX 

ORIENTAL   DANCING 

FROM  a  race  of  artists  Mohammed  took  away  the 
freedom  to  paint  or  model  representations  of  Hv- 
ing  things.  Yet  the  prohibition  was  a  seed  from 
which  sprang  a  garden  of  expression  more  graphic  than 
paint,  a  school  of  symbolism  perhaps  the  most  highly 
wrought  the  world  has  seen. 

Artist  the  Arab  is,  whether  measured  by  tests  of  his 
command  over  abstract  symbol  or — in  such  media  as  his 
religion  permits — ^vivid  portrayal  of  nature.  Of  con- 
crete things  and  occurrences  he  has  the  alert  observa- 
tion of  a  reporter.  Upon  what  he  sees  he  ponders;  in- 
tensely religious,  he  sees  the  hand  of  Allah  in  many 
things,  draws  morals,  and  seeks  meanings. 

His  nomad  forefathers  mastered  the  geography  of 
the  stars,  in  search  of  a  celestial  message.  Though  the 
message  be  still  unread,  mathematical  problems  that  vex 
the  learned  in  academies  amused  the  Arab  when  the 
race  was  young.  Written  numerals  he  invented,  occult 
relations  he  sees  in  their  functions.  And,  underlying 
all,,  he  has  a  passion  for  intellectual  order. 

Geometry  is  the  educated  Arab's  plaything ;  from  long 
practice  he  can  project  its  figures  upon  the  wall  of  imag- 
ination, free  of  the  need  of  pencil.  Owing  to  this  prac- 
tice, perhaps,  his  thoughts  express  themselves  in  the 
form  of  images.     His  literature  is  crowded  with  them, 

vivid  sketches  thrown  before  the  mind's  eye;  each  a 

196 


c;        ^ 


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<   >, 


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7 

8 

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7, 

r 

Arabian  "Dance  of  Greeting"  {Continued) 

'For  you  I  will  dance"   (4)  —  "From  here  you  will  put  away  care"  (5,  8)  — 
"Here   you   may   sleep"    (6)  —  "Here   am    I"    (7) 


To  face  page  197 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  197 

symbol  more  eloquent  than  description,  a  metaphor  more 
compelling  than  logic. 

As  astronomy  was  born  of  the  search  for  meanings 
in  the  stars,  so  the  search  for  mystic  functions  among 
the  figures  of  geometry  evolved  a  school  of  decoration 
that  drowns  the  eye  in  pleasure,  baffles  the  mind  to  ex- 
plain. From  square  and  compass  spring  the  best  of  the 
interlaced  ornament  of  the  palace  of  Alhambra — the 
ornament  that  raises  material  things  to  a  plane  almost 
exempt  from  material  limitations.  And  not  the  de- 
signer alone  gleaned  from  the  geomancer's  play  with 
line.  Experiments  profitless  to  the  magician  yielded  of 
their  magic  to  the  architect,  to  the  end  that  he  was  able 
to  make  of  a  gateway  a  song  of  thanksgiving,  of  a  square 
tower  a  hymn  of  aspiration — and  these,  if  it  suited  him, 
by  the  magic  of  proportion  alone,  without  the  aid  of  any 
adornment  whatever. 

Such  a  race,  if  it  could  have  painted  and  drawn,  would 
have  produced  artists  superlative  in  more  than  one  di- 
rection. Clear  observation  and  the  wit  to  discern  sig- 
nificances would  have  made  satirists  and  commentators 
of  the  most  subtle  kind.  In  picture,  the  Arab  metaphor 
would  have  been  better  expressed,  even,  than  in  words, 
which  often  seem  a  weak  translation  of  a  graphic  sym- 
bol in  the  Arab  story-teller's  mind.  As  to  decoration, 
it  seems  inevitable  that  with  knowledge  of  the  figure 
and  freedom  to  use  it,  the  Moors  that  adorned  Alham- 
bra's  inner  walls  could  have  painted  such  designs  as  are 
not  even  dreamed  of;  for  their  designing — so  far  as 
its  field  extended — was  to  Occidental  designing  in  gen- 
eral as  evolved  musical  composition  is  to  arrangement 
by  guess-work. 

All  these  things  the  Arab  must  have  done  as  a  painter. 


198  THE  DANCE 

Yet  despite  the  injunction  depriving  him  of  life  as  ma- 
terial for  picture  and  sculpture,  and  indeed  because  of 
it,  he  has  evolved  an  art  in  which  painting  and  sculp- 
ture  unite  to  express  the  human  emotions  through  the 
medium  of  the  human  form.  That  art,  of  course,  is 
dancing.  He  has  dignified  it  with  his  accumulated 
knowledge  of  decoration,  imbued  it  with  the  mystic 
symbolism  of  his  speculative  mind.  In  light  mood  it 
narrates  the  passing  occurrence  or  the  amusing  anec- 
dote. And  not  the  least  of  the  wonders  of  the  Arab 
dancing  is  the  emphasis  it  places  upon  the  beauty  of 
womankind.  Instead  of  movement,  as  in  most  Euro- 
pean dancing,  its  essential  interest  is  in  a  series  of  pic- 
tures, charged  with  significance  and  rich  in  harmony 
of  line.  The  eye  has  time  to  dwell  upon  a  posture,  to 
revel  in  the  sensuous  grace  into  which  it  casts  body  and 
limb.  To  complete  the  task  of  sculptural  composition, 
the  Arabic  dancer  studies  to  a  rare  completeness  the  art 
of  eliminating  the  many  natural  crudities  of  position  that 
prevent  arms,  legs  and  body  from  showing  to  the  ut- 
most advantage  their  physical  perfection.  Though  the 
material  body  does  not — in  the  work  of  a  genuine  artist 
— distract  attention  from  sculptural  nobility  of  pose, 
neither  is  physical  attractiveness  lost  sight  of  in  the 
beauties  of  the  abstract.  \ 

That  the  treasure-house  of  Arabian  choreography 
never  has  been  really  opened  to  Occidental  eyes  is  prob- 
ably due,  as  much  as  to  anything  else,  to  the  Arab's 
inability  to  contribute  any  explanation  to  a  thing  which, 
by  his  way  of  thinking,  explains  itself.  He  has  seen 
no  dancing  except  that  of  his  own  race.  To  him  Ara- 
bian dancing  is  not  Arabian ;  it  is  just  dancing.  In  his 
eyes  the  mimetic  symbols  are  as  descriptive  as  spoken 


O 


P^rah^^^BB 

i'  ;   ^H 

Arabian  "Dance  of  Greeting"  (Continued) 
"May  winds  refresh  you"  (12)  —  "Wherever  you  go"  (13)  — 

"And  your  slave"  (16) 
"Here  is  your  house"  (14) —  "Here  is  peace"  (15) 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  199 

words.  Except  he  could  see  them  with  Occidental  eyes, 
he  would  see  nothing  about  them  to  explain. 

Europe  has  seen  the  Arabic  work,  and  enjoyed  it 
for  its  ocular  beauty.  Gerome,  Constant,  Bargue  and 
others  have  painted  its  sinuous  elegance  with  admirable 
results.  But  no  insight  into  its  motives  has  become 
general,  nor  has  any  key  to  its  meaning  heretofore  been 
printed,  so  far  as  can  be  ascertained,  in  any  European 
language. 

America  still  further  than  Europe  has  been  excluded 
from  satisfactory  acquaintance  with  the  Oriental,  be- 
cause it  has  been  so  rarely  presented  here  except  in  a 
manner  to  defame  it.  At  the  World's  Fair  in  Chicago, 
where  we  saw  it  first,  its  sinuous  body-movement  caused 
a  shock.  Along  that  line  opportunist  managers  saw 
profit.  Sex — an  institution  whose  existence  is  frankly 
admitted  by  every  civilisation  except  our  own — was, 
under  managerial  inspiration,  insisted  upon  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  every  other  motive  of  the  dance ;  and  insisted 
upon  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  it  repulsive.  Ruth 
St.  Denis  has  gone  far  in  removing  the  resulting  stigma 
from  the  art  of  India  and  Egypt.  That  the  prejudice 
is  not  going  to  persist  in  the  face  of  a  national  common- 
sense  and  love  of  beauty  is  further  indicated  in  the  re- 
ception met  by  the  work  of  Fatma  a  couple  of  seasons 
ago  in  The  Garden  of  Allah;  a  Moroccan  woman,  doing 
work  unreservedly  typical  of  her  country,  always  re- 
ceived with  delight  by  the  audience,  and  never  regarded 
from  the  wrong  point  of  view. 

The  mission  of  calling  Western  attention  to  that 
which  lies  below  the  surface  of  Arabic  dancing,  how- 
ever, appears  to  have  remained  for  Zourna,  the  Tu- 
nisian.    To  her  it  is  possible,  by  virtue  of  a  point  of 


200  THE  DANCE 

view  resulting  from  a  dual  education,  Mohammedan 
and  European. 

Zourna  is  the  daughter  of  an  Arab  father  and  a 
French  mother,  who  lived  in  Tunis.  In  childhood  she 
was  taught  the  Arab  girl's  accomplishments,  dancing 
included;  but  an  occasional  visit  to  France  enabled  her 
at  all  times  to  see  her  African  way  of  living  somewhat 
as  it  would  appear  to  the  European.  In  the  natural 
course  of  events  she  married;  destined,  however,  to  a 
short  time  of  enjoyment  of  the  dreamy  dancing  of  the 
sheltered  harem.  The  death  of  her  husband  and  loss 
of  fortune  drove  her  to  dance  in  cafes.  That  genus 
of  work  she  had  time  to  learn  well  before  Fate  again 
intervened.  A  chain  of  circumstances  brought  her  an 
opportunity  to  study  ballet  in  the  French  Academy.  It 
was  not  her  medium  of.  expression,  but  it  gave  her  a 
clear  measure  of  the  difference  between  the  Oriental  and 
Occidental  philosophies  of  the  dance. 

Of  formulated  dances  the  Arab  has  few,  and  those 
no  more  set  than  are  the  words  of  our  stories :  the  point 
must  not  be  missed,  but  we  may  choose  our  own  vocab- 
ulary. In  terms  of  the  dance,  the  Arab  entertainer  tells 
stories;  in  the  case  of  known  and  popular  stories  she 
follows  the  accepted  narrative,  but  improvises  the  move- 
ments and  poses  that  express  it,  exactly  as  though  they 
were  spoken  words  instead  of  pantomime.  Somewhat 
less  freedom  necessarily  obtains  in  the  narration  of 
dance-poems  than  in  the  recital  of  trifling  incident;  but 
within  the  necessary  limits,  originality  is  prized.  In 
the  mimetic  vocabulary  are  certain  phrases  that  are  de- 
pended upon  to  convey  their  definite  meanings.  New 
word-equivalents,  however,  are  always  in  order,  if  they 


Arabian  "Dance  of  Mourning" 
By  Zourna 

The  body  approaches  (i) — The  body  passes  (2)  —  "1  hold  my  sorrow  to 

myself  "  (3) 


To  face  page  200 


Arabian  "Dance  of  Mourning"  (Continued) 
'He  has  gone  out  of  the  house  and  up  to  Heaven"  (4)  —  "Farewell"  (5) 


To  face  page  201 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  201 

can  stand  the  searching  test  of  eyes  educated  in  beauty 
and  minds  trained  to  exact  thinking. 

Nearly  unlimited  as  it  is  in  scope,  delightful  as  it  un- 
failingly is  to  those  who  know  it,  Arabic  dancing  suits 
occasions  of  a  variety  of  which  the  dances  of  Europe 
never  dreamed.  In  the  cafe  it  diverts  and  sometimes 
demoralises.  In  his  house  the  master  watches  the  dan- 
cing of  his  slaves,  dreaming  under  the  narcotic  spell  of 
rhythm.  On  those  rare  occasions  when  the  demands 
of  diplomacy  or  business  compel  him  to  bring  a  guest 
into  his  house,  the  dancing  of  slaves  is  depended  upon  to 
entertain.  His  wives  dance  before  him  to  please  his 
eye,  and  to  cajole  him  into  conformity  with  their  desires. 

Even  the  news  of  the  day  is  danced,  since  the  doc- 
trines of  Mohammed  depress  the  printing  of  almost 
everything  except  the  Koran.  Reports  of  current 
events  reach  the  male  population  in  the  market  and  the 
cafe.  At  home  men  talk  little  of  outside  affairs,  and 
women  do  not  get  out  except  to  visit  others  of  their  kind, 
as  isolated  from  the  world  as  themselves.  But  they  get 
all  the  news  that  is  likely  to  interest  them,  none  the  less ; 
at  least  the  happenings  in  the  world  of  Mohammedan- 
ism. 

As  venders  of  information  of  passing  events,  there 
are  women  that  wander  in  pairs  from  city  to  city,  from 
harem  to  harem,  like  bards  of  the  early  North.  As 
women  they  are  admitted  to  women's  apartments. 
There,  while  one  rhythmically  pantomimes  deeds  of  war 
to  the  cloistered  ones  that  never  saw  a  soldier,  or  graph- 
ically imitates  the  punishment  of  a  malefactor  in  the 
market-place,  her  companion  chants,  with  falsetto 
whines,    a   descriptive   and   rhythmic   accompaniment. 


202  THE  DANCE 

Thus  is  the  harem  protected  against  the  risk  of  nar- 
rowness. 

In  the  daily  life  of  the  harem,  dancing  is  one  of  the 
favoured  pastimes.  Women  dance  to  amuse  themselves 
and  to  entertain  one  another.  In  the  dance,  as  in 
music  and  embroidery,  there  is  endless  interest,  and  a 
spirit  of  emulation  usually  friendly. 

One  of  the  comparatively  formalised  mimetic  expres- 
sions is  the  Dance  of  Greeting,  the  function  of  which  is 
to  honour  a  guest  when  occasion  brings  him  into  the 
house.  Let  it  be  imagined  that  coffee  and  cigarettes 
have  been  served  to  two  grave  gentlemen;  that  one  has 
expressed  bewilderment  at  the  magnificence  of  the  es- 
tablishment, and  his  opinion  that  too  great  honour  has 
been  done  him  in  permitting  him  to  enter  it;  that  the 
host  has  duly  made  reply  that  his  grandchildren  will 
tell  with  pride  of  the  day  when  this  poor  house  was  so 
far  honoured  that  such  a  one  set  his  foot  within  it. 
After  which  a  sherbet,  more  coffee  and  cigarettes. 
When  the  time  seems  propitious,  the  host  suggests  to 
the  guest  that  if  in  his  great  kindness  he  will  look  at  her, 
he — the  host — would  like  permission  to  order  a  slave  to 
try  to  entertain  with  a  dance. 

The  musicians,  squatting  against  the  wall,  begin  the 
wailing  of  the  flute,  the  hypnotic  throb  of  "darabukkeh." 
She  who  is  designated  to  dance  the  Greeting  enters  hold- 
ing before  her  a  long  scarf  that  half  conceals  her;  the 
expression  on  her  face  is  surprise,  as  though  honour 
had  fallen  to  her  beyond  her  merits  or  expectation. 
Upon  reaching  her  place  she  extends  her  arms  forward, 
then  slowly  moves  them,  and  with  them  the  scarf,  to 
one  side,  until  she  is  revealed.  When  a  nod  confirms 
the  command  to  dance,  she  quickly  drops  the  scarf  to  the 


Arabian  "Dance  of  Mourning"  {Continued) 

"He  slept  in  my  arms"  (6)  —  "The  house  is  empty"  (7)  —  "Woe  is  in  my 

heart"  (8) 


To  face  page  202 


6  s    -g 


Sm 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  203 

floor,  advances  to  a  place  before  the  guest  and  near  him, 
and  honours  him  with  a  slave's  salutation.  Then  aris- 
ing she  proceeds  to  her  silent  greeting. 

"You  are  implanted  in  your  house,"  says  a  move- 
ment [see  photographs].  "Here  is  food,  here  may  you 
sleep  vi^ell.  When  you  go  forth,  go  you  East,  West, 
North,  South  [indicating  quarter-circles  by  pointing  the 
toe],  yet  you  are  here.  May  Allah's  blessings  descend 
upon  you.  May  the  breezes  blow  upon  you,  may  the 
rain  refresh  you,  may  abundance  be  showered  upon 
you;  yet  may  you  remember  that  here  you  are  in  your 
house,  and  that  here  is  your  slave." 

That  is  the  lifeless  skeleton  of  the  story,  without 
grace,  or  the  animation  of  movement,  or  the  embellish- 
ment of  expression.  To  try  to  force  words  into  an 
equivalent  of  the  semi-ritualistic  splendour  of  the  dance 
would  be  attempting  to  build  a  Moorish  palace  of  dry 
grains  of  sand. 

In  Occidental  entertainment,  when  a  performer  has 
gained  the  sanctuary  of  the  platform,  he  is  practically 
immune  from  interruption  until  his  "number"  is  fin- 
ished— unless  exception  be  made  of  "amateur  night"  in 
vaudeville  houses,  where  offenders  are  forcibly  removed 
with  a  hook,  or  suddenly  enveloped  in  darkness.  With 
that  probably  unique  exception,  however,  the  audience 
confronted  by  an  indifferent  performer  can  only  sum- 
mon patience.  The  Orient  offers  no  such  security,  to 
the  dancer  at  least.  At  the  first  sign  of  failure  to  in- 
terest, a  signal,  perhaps  no  more  noticeable  than  the  raise 
of  an  eyelid,  commands  the  dancer  to  cease.  Not  later, 
but  instantly. 

To  interrupt  a  dance  of  movement  without  regard  to 
its  argument  would  be  worse  than  interrupting  a  story. 


204  THE  DANCE 

It  would  not  only  undo  the  preceding  work;  it  would 
be  very  likely  to  arrest  the  artist  in  a  transitional  posi- 
tion, in  itself  weak.  At  all  events,  such  an  interruption 
would  painfully  mar  an  entertainment  programme.  But 
the  Arabian  dance  is  not  a  dance  of  movement;  it  is 
a  dance  of  pictures,  to  which  movement  is  wholly  sub- 
ordinate. Each  bar  of  the  music  accompanies  a  pic- 
ture complete  in  itself.  Within  the  measure  of  each 
bar  the  dancer  has  time  for  the  movements  leading  from 
one  picture  to  the  next,  and  to  hold  the  picture  for  the 
instant  necessary  to  give  emphasis.  At  whatever  mo- 
ment she  may  be  stopped,  therefore,  she  is  within  less 
than  a  second  of  a  pose  so  balanced  and  sculptural  that 
it  appears  as  a  natural  termination  of  the  dance.  The 
Oriental's  general  indifference  to  the  forces  of  accumu- 
lation and  climax  are  consistent  with  such  a  capricious 
ending.  In  his  dance,  each  phrase  is  complete  in  itself ; 
it  may  be  likened  to  one  of  those  serial  stories  in  our 
magazines,  in  which  each  instalment  of  the  story  is  self- 
sufficient. 

To  the  Occidental  unused  to  Oriental  art,  the  absence 
of  crescendo  and  climax,  and  the  substituted  iteration 
carried  on  endlessly,  is  uninteresting.  Nevertheless,  a 
few  days  of  life  among  Oriental  conditions  suffice  to 
throw  many  a  scoffer  into  attunement  with  the  Oriental 
art  idea.  Which  is  to  soothe,  not  to  stimulate.  Moor- 
ish ornament  is  an  indefinitely  repeated  series  of  mar- 
vellously designed  units,  each  complete  in  itself,  yet  in- 
extricably interwoven  with  its  neighbours.  In  music 
the  beats  continue  unchanging  through  bar  after  bar, 
phrase  after  phrase.  The  rhythmic  repetition  of  the 
tile-designs  on  the  wall,  the  decorative  repetition  of  the 
beats  of  music,  produce  a  spell  of  dreamy  visioning  com- 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  205 

parable  only  to  the  effect  of  some  potent  but  harmless 
narcotic. 

To  the  foregoing*  generality  exception  must  again 
be  made  of  the  dancing  in  cafes.  While  it  conforms  to 
the  structure  of  a  picture-complete-in-each-bar,  its  treat- 
ment is  more  or  less  at  variance  with  the  idea  of  sooth- 
ing. But  the  symbolism  is  likely  to  lack  nothing  of 
picturesqueness.  The  Handkerchief  Dance  is  charac- 
teristic of  the  type. 

Of  the  two  handkerchiefs  used  in  this  dance  one  rep- 
resents the  girl  herself,  the  other  her  soon-to-be-selected 
lover.  She  first  takes  a  corner  of  each  handkerchief 
into  her  teeth,  warming  them  into  life.  She  lays  them 
parallel  on  the  floor  and  indifferently  dances  around 
and  between  them,  to  state  her  power  to  cross  the  line 
and  return  free  from  entanglements  of  lover's  claims. 
Into  the  waistband  of  her  trousers  she  tucks  opposite 
corners  of  both  handkerchiefs  so  that  they  hang  as  pan- 
niers: the  hands  pushed  through  show  the  panniers 
empty ;  she  would  receive  gifts.  To  show,  too,  that  she 
can  give,  a  flourishing  gesture  releases  a  corner  of  each, 
to  spill  the  imagined  contents.  Interest  progresses  until 
as  a  climax  she  kisses  one  of  the  fluttering  cloths,  slowly 
passes  it  downward  over  heart  and  body,  and  throws  it 
in  a  wad  to  the  elected  one.  The  token  is  his  passport 
to  her ;  and  its  return  at  any  later  time  is  announcement 
that  she  no  longer  interests  him. 

One  dance  the  Arabs  have  that  is  not  associated  with 
the  idea  of  symbolism,  but  is  rather  a  vehicle  for  the 
display  of  technical  skill  for  skill's  own  sake.  It  is  the 
Flour  Dance.  On  the  floor  a  design  is  drawn  in  an  even 
layer  of  flour — a  favourite  figure  is  the  square  imposed 
on  a  circle,  familiar  in  Saracenic  ornament.     The  dan- 


2o6  THE  DANCE 

cer's  first  journey  over  the  figure  establishes  a  series 
of  footprints ;  a  successful  performance  consists  in  plant- 
ing the  feet  in  the  same  tracks  during  subsequent  rounds. 
Difficulties  can  be  added  by  crossings  of  the  feet,  turns 
and  other  involutions,  and  multiplied  by  increasing  speed. 
This  dance  was  mentioned  in  connection  with  the  an- 
cient Greek  Dance  of  the  Spilled  Meal,  of  which  it  may 
reasonably  be  supposed  to  be  either  a  direct  descendant 
or  a  surviving  ancestor. 

There  are  a  number  of  little  dances  popular  in  light 
entertainment.  In  one,  a  woman  in  the  act  of  eaves- 
dropping is  startled  by  a  lizard  dropping  on  her  back. 
Her  efforts  to  get  rid  of  it  attract  her  husband  from  his 
[imagined]  conversation  on  the  other  side  of  the  cur- 
tain. She  must  now  explain  why  she  was  standing  at 
the  curtain,  and  above  all  she  must  appear  calm.  The 
comedy  opportunity  lies  in  her  efforts  not  to  squirm  away 
from  the  [imagined]  lizard. 

Another  of  these  one-character  sketches  tells  of  the 
lazy  washerwoman.  She  enters  steadying  on  her  head 
an  imaginary  basket  of  linen.  Arriving  at  the  edge  of 
the  stream  she  puts  down  the  basket,  kneels,  and  indo- 
lently begins  mauling  and  scrubbing  the  garments  over 
the  half-submerged  rocks.  (And  she  turns  the  move- 
ments into  poetry!)  But  her  attention  wanders  from 
uncongenial  work.  Whose  hasn't?  one  sympathetically 
asks  oneself  as  one  watches.  She  looks  up  the  stream, 
and  down;  her  eye  sees  beauties,  and  her  mind  finds 
subjects  to  wonder  about.  She  falls  a-dreaming,  and 
then  asleep — still  kneeling. 

When  she  wakens,  the  other  women  have  finished 
their  work  and  gone,  and  it  is  late.  Not  stopping  to 
wring  out  the  clothes  that  she  hurriedly  collects  from  the 


u 


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■P.'^ 


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■^  a 

'^    I 


"S.E 


Cj 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  207 

pool,  she  throws  them  into  the  basket.  Humour  is  put 
into  the  artist's  mimicry  of  the  poor  woman's  efforts  to 
avoid  the  dripping  water,  while  carrying  the  weight  of 
a  basket  of  wet  clothes  balanced  on  her  head.  Em- 
bodying as  it  does  both  dream-sentiment  and  comedy, 
the  little  pantomime  is  a  pretty  vehicle  for  versatility. 

A  serious  story  is  that  of  the  Mohammedan  woman 
who,  against  her  father's  wishes,  has  married  a  Jew. 
The  representation  opens  with  the  woman's  entrance 
to  the  room  where  her  father  lies  dying.  Her  hair 
falls  loose  in  token  of  mourning  or  penitence.  She 
kneels  beside  the  death-bed,  and  strips  off  her  many  jew- 
els. Her  vow  to  re-enter  the  fold  of  Islam  she  shows 
by  drawing  a  strand  of  her  hair  across  her  mouth,  sug- 
gesting the  face-covering  of  the  women  of  Mohamme- 
dan faith.  The  father  offers  his  hand  to  be  kissed. 
Grateful,  she  slowly  rises,  crosses  the  room,  closes  and 
bolts  the  door,  in  token  of  shutting  out  all  but  the  pa- 
ternal faith.  , 

The  dance  of  mourning  for  the  dead  is  a  fixed  com- 
position only  to  the  extent  of  including  certain  accepted 
postures;  their  sequence  is  not  prescribed.  "Here  he 
lies  dead ;  Allah  takes  him.  I  am  as  a  fallen  tree ;  I  am 
alone.  He  held  me  in  his  arms;  we  played  together; 
and  he  was  my  protector."  In  such  manner  runs  the 
widow's  lament  for  her  departed  husband.  Pulsing 
through  all  is  the  solemn  beat  of  "darabukkeh"  under- 
toning  the  wails  of  mourners. 

The  Bedoui  of  the  desert  celebrate  marriage,  peace- 
compacts,  declarations  of  war  and  other  happy  occa- 
sions with  a  gun-dance,  which  is  known  as  a  Fantasia 
or  Fantaisie.  It  in  no  way  conforms  to  the  fundamen- 
tals of  Arabic  dancing,  and  in  fact  it  is  a  dance  in  name 


2o8  THE  DANCE 

only.  But  it  is  joyous  exceedingly.  Approximately 
rhythmic  rifle-firing  is  continuous  from  beginning  to 
end.  Performers  both  mounted  and  afoot  leap  and 
whirl  in  maniac  confusion,  shooting  up,  down  and  all 
around  in  merry  abandon.  Dust,  howls  and  powder- 
smoke  attack  ears,  eyes  and  throat  in  unison,  and  the 
only  unhappy  ones  in  the  gay  assemblage  are  those  that 
Allah  wills  to  have  been  shot,  stepped  on  by  horses,  or 
both. 

Tangier  is  the  setting  of  an  occasional  savage  cele- 
bration of  religious  fanaticism;  and  these  celebrations, 
too,  fall  into  a  category  of  quasi-dancing.  They  are 
demonstrations  of  a  sect  styled  the  Hamadsha.  To  a 
deafening  accompaniment  of  fifes  and  drums,  a  few  lead- 
ers start  a  crude  hopping  dance  in  the  market-place. 
The  number  of  participants  grows  rapidly;  excitement 
increases  with  the  number,  until,  at  a  point  of  frenzy, 
the  leaping  fanatics  begin  hacking  their  heads  with  axes. 
The  example  is  so  contagious  that  small  boys  dash  into 
the  melee  and  snatch  axes  from  the  hands  of  men,  to 
inflict  the  same  castigation.  Christian  spectators  fre- 
quently faint  at  the  spectacle,  but  fascination  holds  them 
at  their  windows  until  they  are  overcome.  During  the 
four  hours  or  more  that  the  blood-spilling  continues,  as 
well  as  during  a  period  before  and  after,  the  street  is 
a  dangerous  place  for  the  unbeliever. 

Ostrander,  the  traveller,  while  in  Constantinople, 
found  himself  unaccountably  in  the  midst  of  a  celebra- 
tion dififering  in  character  from  those  of  the  Hamadsha 
of  Tangier  only  in  the  respect  of  being  held  at  night. 
The  resemblance  in  all  essentials  indicates  the  existence 
of  Mohammedan  undercurrents  completely  unknown  to 
the  Western  world. 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  209 

Egypt,  notwithstanding  centuries  of  Arab  domination, 
preserves — or  re-creates — in  her  dancing  the  style 
shown  in  the  carvings  of  the  Pharaoh  dynasties.  In 
contrast  to  the  softly  curving  Arab  movements,  the 
Egyptian's  definitely  incline  to  straight  lines.  Gestures 
change  their  direction  in  angles,  rather  than  curves. 
Poses  of  perfect  symmetry  are  sought.  Even  when 
symmetry  is  absent,  the  serpentine,  plastic  character  of 
Arab  movement  is  pertinently  avoided.  The  sentiment 
of  architecture  is  cultivated;  the  head  is  not  turned  on 
the  shoulders,  nor  the  torse  on  the  hips,  except  as  such 
relaxation  is  required  in  the  interest  of  pantomime.  In 
movement  and  position  the  Egyptian  seeks  verticals, 
horizontals  and  right  angles.  To  the  beauty  of  the 
work  the  severely  geometrical  treatment  adds  an  ar- 
chitectural quality  almost  startling  in  its  surety  and 
majesty. 

Egyptian  form  "toes  out"  the  artist's  feet,  so  that  they 
are  seen  without  perspective  when  the  performer  is 
facing  the  spectator. 

Whether  the  dances  of  the  Valley  of  the  Nile  estab- 
lished the  conventions  of  early  relief  carvings,  or 
whether,  on  the  other  hand,  the  carvings  determined 
the  character  of  the  dances,  is  a  question  neither  pos- 
sible nor  necessary  to  decide.  Both  arts  certainly  were 
the  expression  of  rigid  religious  ceremonialism,  and 
likely  are  twins.  To-day  the  records  in  granite  are  the 
subject  of  conscious  study  on  the  part  of  dancers.  In 
the  past,  too,  they  undoubtedly  have  been  chart  and 
compass  to  the  sculpture  of  ephemeral  flesh  and  blood, 
that  unguided  might  have  perished  in  any  one  of  the 
thousands  of  generations  of  its  existence. 

In  type  of  subject  and  motive  the  dances  of  Egypt 


210  THE  DANCE 

resemble  those  of  the  Barbary  States,  as  above  described. 
Mourning,  homage  and  incident  are  narrated  in  about 
the  same  vocabulary,  the  dissimilarity  of  technique  be- 
ing comparable  to  a  dialectic  difference  of  pronunciation 
of  a  language.  On  their  commercial  side  the  two  are 
identical.  In  tourist-ridden  cafes  of  Cairo  and  Port 
Said,  as  in  those  of  Tangier  and  Algiers,  girls  dance 
what  the  tourist  expects  and  wishes.  In  the  Coptic 
town  of  Esneh,  dwelling  in  the  ruined  temples,  is  a 
community  of  people  known  as  Almees.  They  are  lit- 
erally a  tribe  of  dancers,  removed  by  a  khediye  in 
former  times  from  Cairo  on  grounds  of  impropriety. 
Dancing  as  they  do  in  the  temples  of  five  thousand  years 
ago,  they  form  a  curious  link  with  antiquity.  Their 
work,  however,  is  said  to  be  shaped  to  the  tourist  de- 
mand. 

Such  dances,  however,  despite  the  insistence  with 
which  they  are  pushed  upon  the  attention  of  tourists, 
are  not  of  the  kind  with  which  the  name  of  Egypt  de- 
serves to  be  associated.  The  mystic  still  dwells  along 
the  shores  of  the  Nile;  but  its  votaries  do  not  commer- 
cialise it,  nor  is  it  a  commodity  that  lends  itself  to  sale 
and  purchase,  even  were  there  a  disposition  so  to  de- 
grade it.  One  of  the  dances  illustrated  by  Zourna  sym- 
bolises in  terms  as  delicate  as  the  most  ethereal  imag- 
inings, the  awakening  of  the  soul. 

The  body's  initial  lack  of  the  spiritual  spark  is  repre- 
sented by  the  crossed  hands,  as  bodies  are  carved  on  sep- 
ulchres. An  imperceptible  glide  through  a  series  of 
poses  so  subtly  distinguished  from  one  another  that 
movement,  from  one  moment  to  the  next,  is  unseen, 
creates  an  atmosphere  mysterious  and  almost  chill  in 
its  twilight  gloom.     Gropingly  the  arms  rise  to  the  po- 


"Dance  of  the  Soul's  Journey"  (Continued) 
She  draws  aside  the  veil  of  the  future  (5)  —  Life  is  seen  full  and  plenteous  (6) 


To  face  page  211 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  211 

sition  that  symbolises  prayer  for  the  divine  light — the 
hand  below  the  chin  emphasising  the  upturn  of  the  face, 
the  upper  hand  suggesting  the  flame.  With  awe  the 
new  intelligence  gazes  upon  the  world,  open-eyed;  then 
it  must  draw  aside  the  veil  of  the  future.  Fulness  of 
life  is  seen  awaiting,  which  the  dancer  expresses  by  a 
gesture  representing  roundness,  the  accepted  Oriental 
representation  of  completeness  and  richness.  But  wait ! 
she  will  grow  old,  and  with  bent  back  will  walk  stumbling 
at  the  heels  of  a  camel.  But  a  defiance  to  age  and  the 
future!  Now  she  is  young;  her  body  is  straight  and 
her  limbs  round.  A  defiant  expression  of  the  joy  of 
life  follows,  yet  undertoned  withal  with  unforgettable 
sadness;  movements  of  happiness,  a  face  of  tragedy. 

The  sombre  majesty  of  the  pictures,  especially  those 
of  the  search  into  the  future;  the  reverence-compelling 
mystery  of  the  somnambulistic  movements — a  hundred 
things  about  this  dance  raise  it  to  the  very  uppermost 
plane  of  its  kind  of  art.  So  far  beyond  mere  skill  are 
its  movements,  so  completely  alien  to  anything  in  Occi- 
dental knowledge,  that  to  Occidental  eyes  they  are  as 
unearthly  as  they  are  imposing.  Reason  fails,  chloro- 
formed by  beauty;  the  real  becomes  the  unreal,  the  un- 
real the  real.  Imagination  is  released  from  the  tentacles 
of  fact  and  time.  The  future  ?  It  could  be  seen  for  the 
trouble  of  turning  the  head  to  look ;  but  what  profit  fore- 
knowledge either  of  cuts  or  caresses?  Curiosity  is 
for  the  very  young.  Better  and  wiser  the  lot  of  igno- 
rance. .  .  . 

Hypnotism  of  a  kind?  Granted.  Finely  rendered, 
this  dance  represents  the  utmost  development  of  the  co- 
ordination of  rhythm,  sentiment,  and  appropriateness 
of  movement.     That  combination  in  its  turn  is  undoubt- 


212  THE  DANCE 

edly  the  essence  of  the  Oriental  magic  that,  since  the 
world  was  young,  has  enabled  men  to  dream  dreams 
and  see  visions.  Among  the  newer  civilisations  the 
emotional  power  of  rhythm  is  as  unknown  as  it  is  un- 
tried. 

The  Egyptian's  passion  for  decoration  is  served  by 
the  dance,  no  less  ably  than  is  his  love  of  the  metaphys- 
ical. In  the  homes  of  the  rich  there  is  said  to  be  a  form 
of  decorative  choreography,  like  a  ballet  in  structure, 
that  duplicates  and  animates  a  painted  or  sculptured 
frieze  on  the  walls  of  the  room.  The  dancers  enter  one 
at  a  time,  taking  their  positions  in  turn  under  the  fig- 
ures of  the  frieze,  copying  each  in  pose  as  they  come  into 
place  under  it.  The  intervals  between  poses  are  of 
course  enriched  by  carefully  related  movements,  so  that 
the  line  of  dancers,  advancing  together  from  figure  to 
figure,  shall  move  as  a  harmonised  unit.  The  scheme 
creates  a  manifold  interest:  the  line  of  dancers  repre- 
sents an  animated  version  of  the  frieze;  though  it  is 
seen  to  move,  its  figures  remain  in  a  sense  unchanged; 
yet  to  watch  any  one  performer  is  to  see  her  change 
constantly.  The  human  line  and  the  mural  frieze  col- 
lectively form  a  background  for  the  work  of  a  leading 
dancer,  who  flits  from  place  and  duplicates  the  poses  of 
such  figures  as  she  may  choose. 

In  another  entertainment,  descriptions  tell  of  huge 
vases  carried  in  and  placed  back  of  the  dancing  space, 
as  though  they  were  decorative  adjuncts  forgotten  un- 
til the  last  moment.  They  are  placed,  and  the  servants 
retire,  just  before  the  first  dancer  opens  the  programme. 
A  spectator  unfamiliar  with  the  diversion  would  notice 
that  the  vases  were  elaborately  ornamented  with  carved 
figures.     These  one  by  one  relax  their  archaic  severity 


3 

^^^ta 

cj    .t: 


Q    .2i 


"Dance  of  the  Soul's  Journey"  (Continued) 

Yet  now,  from  the  crown  of  her  head  (lo)  —  To  the  soles  of  her  feet  she  is 

perfect  (ii) 


To  face  page  iij 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  213 

of  pose  and  very  slowly  come  to  life.  Keeping  the  col- 
our of  the  stone  and  without  wholly  losing  its  unbending 
character,  each  dances  her  allotted  number  and  returns 
to  her  pose  on  the  vase. 

The  foregoing  is  by  no  means  a  complete  list  of 
Egypt's  dances  of  decorative  interest  or  occult  signifi- 
cance. Dance  representations  of  subjects  of  every- 
day interest  are  also  popular;  there  is  one  that  sketches 
a  series  of  incidents  connected  with  a  hunt  with  a  fal- 
con. But,  as  stated  in  another  place,  the  choreographic 
taste  of  Egypt  has  many  points  of  similarity  with  that 
of  the  Arabs  of  all  the  southern  coast  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. Egyptian  technique  is  distinct,  its  interpreta- 
tion of  the  abstract  is  marvellously  developed,  its  union 
of  the  dance  with  architecture  is  its  own.  But  its  taste 
in  pantomimes  of  light  motive  is  already  characterised 
without  the  addition  of  further  examples. 

Following  Oriental  dancing  eastward  toward  India, 
its  probable  birthplace,  it  is  found  to  preserve  with  ap- 
proximate consistency  certain  general  characteristics. 
The  combined  pantomimic  and  decorative  use  of  the 
arms,  subject  to  regional  ideas  as  to  what  comprises 
decorative  quality,  runs  through  it  all.  The  apparent 
freedom  of  chest,  abdomen  and  hips  from  any  restrict- 
ing inter-relationships,  is  an  attribute  of  it  emphasised 
in  some  localities  more  than  others ;  it  decreases  toward 
the  north,  generally  speaking.  The  women  of  Turkey 
compare  with  those  of  the  Barbary  States  in  phenomenal 
flexibility  and  control  of  the  abdominal  muscle — result- 
ing in  capability  for  a  species  of  contortion  not  at  all 
agreeable  when  exaggerated. 

A  principle  of  all  Oriental  dancing  is  its  frank  ac- 
knowledgment of  avoirdupois.     It  employs  none  of  the 


214  THE  DANCE 

devices  by  which  Hghtness  is  achieved,  choosing  as  its 
aim,  rather,  the  representation  of  a  plastic  quaUty  that 
exploits  rather  than  denies  the  meatiness  of  flesh  texture. 
The  heel  is  not  often  raised  high  from  the  ground,  and 
indeed  the  foot  is  often  planted  flat.  A  mannerism  in- 
tensely characteristic  of  the  Oriental  use  of  the  foot  is 
a  trick  of  quickly  changing  its  direction  after  it  is  set 
on  the  floor  but  before  the  weight  of  the  body  is  shifted 
to  it ;  the  twist  may  leave  the  heel  stationary  as  a  pivot, 
or  the  ball.  The  effect  is  as  though  the  dancer  were 
making  a  feint  to  deceive  the  spectator  as  to  the  direc- 
tion of  the  next  turn,  and  doubtless  such  contribution 
to  interest  is  the  intent.  It  at  least  adds  intricacy,  and 
directs  attention  to  a  pretty  foot.  Of  the  latter  adorn- 
ment, whether  covered  with  little  Turkish  slipper  with 
turned-up  toe,  or  bare,  possessors  are  impartially  proud. 

Mystery  of  movement  in  certain  parts  is  a  further 
characteristic  distinguishing  the  Oriental  work  from 
anything  to  be  found  in  the  Occident,  with  the  exception 
of  certain  tricks  of  the  Spanish  Gipsy — tricks  which, 
after  all,  furnish  no  exception,  since  they  are  Moorish 
absolutely.  The  Oriental  covers  little  space  in  her  work. 
A  space  large  enough  to  kneel  on  would  admit  all  that 
her  art  requires.  She  has  no  leaps  to  make,  nor  open 
leg-movements.  Much  of  the  time  she  has  both  feet 
on  the  floor,  is  active  chiefly  in  arms  and  body.  Much 
more  of  the  time  her  feet  are  engaged  in  steps  hardly 
noticeable. 

The  foregoing  observations  on  Oriental  work  apply 
more  particularly  to  the  low  latitudes  than  to  lands  far- 
ther removed  from  the  equator.  China  and  Japan  have 
a  choreography  like  that  of  the  Southern  regions  in 
some  respects;  but  their  custom  of  bundling  the  dancer 


ORIENTAL  DANCING 


215 


_ '  HLJUU-HM 

Miscellaneous  Oriental  Notes. 

Dancing  girls  of  Biskra. 

Turkish    Sword    Dance, 

E^ptian  bas-relief.  Metropolitan  Museum,  N.  Y. 

Japanese  Dance  of  War.  Japanese  Flower  Dance. 

The  Hula-Hula  Dance,  Hawaiian  Islands. 


2i6  THE  DANCE 

up  in  clothes  is  the  cause  also  of  differences  so  pro- 
nounced that  they  had  best  be  considered  as  of  a  differ- 
ent category.  Purely  as  a  convenience,  therefore,  let 
it  be  understood  that  Japanese  and  Chinese  dancing 
shall  be  referred  to  by  those  names;  and  that  the  word 
Oriental  shall  be  understood  to  signify  the  dances  of 
the  sinuous-body  type,  to  which  pertain  those  of  the 
Arabs  of  North  Africa  and  elsewhere,  the  Persians, 
Turks  and  some  others. 

To  the  dancing  of  men,  where  any  is  done,  generali- 
ties as  to  the  style  of  Oriental  dancing  fail  to  fit  in  many 
cases.  Exceptions  are  not  numerous,  however ;  because, 
if  for  no  other  reason,  far  the  greater  part  of  Oriental 
dancing  is  done  by  women.  Of  the  few  exceptions  some 
are  dances  of  religion,  others  of  war. 

An  intoxicating  Sword  Dance  is  practiced  in  Turkey. 
Like  almost  everything  else  that  is  danced  (or  sung  or 
acted)  its  merit  of  course  depends  in  great  degree  on 
the  quality  of  its  interpretation.  Well  done,  this  Turk- 
ish Sword  Dance  shows  itself  a  composition  of  rare  in- 
dividuality and  a  fine,  wild  beauty;  for  good  measure, 
it  is  a  sword  combat  of  a  reality  that  threatens  the  spec- 
tator with  heart  failure.  The  two  combatants  advance 
and  retreat,  accenting  the  music  with  clashes  of  sword 
on  shield ;  the  interest  is  that  of  a  barbarously  beautiful 
dance  as  long  as  they  continue  to  face  each  other.  Not- 
withstanding rapidity,  the  chances  are  against  a  mis- 
hap. But  when  of  a  sudden  both  launch  themselves 
on  a  series  of  lightning  rond  de  jambe  pirouettes,  the 
scimitars  sweeping  around  fast  enough  to  cut  a  man 
in  two  if  he  should  fail  to  parry,  the  affair  becomes  a 
sporting  event,  and  that  of  a  kind  to  harrow  the  nerves. 

Turkey  also  is  the  place,  or  one  of  the  places,  where 


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<  o. 


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M 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  217 

Whirling  Dervishes  are  educated  for  their  curious  call- 
ing. Mr.  H.  C.  Ostrander  is  authority  for  the  state- 
ment that  an  apprenticeship  of  a  thousand  days  is  con- 
sidered a  necessary  preparation  for  proper  performance 
of  this  apparently  simple  act  of  devotion.  Since  nothing 
whatever  is  attempted  in  step  beyond  that  which  the 
ballet-dancers  call  "Italian  turns,"  it  must  be  supposed 
that  the  art  of  the  Whirling  Dervish  has  qualities  that 
do  not  appear  on  the  surface.  It  is  taught  in  monas- 
teries scattered  through  the  mountainous  regions. 

The  Caucasus,  that  land  less  known  than  fabled,  has 
dances  of  a  fame  as  persistent  as  it  is  vague.  Its  map 
is  dotted  with  names  immortalised  in  the  Arabian  Nights. 
It  is  the  setting  of  Scheherazade  and  Sumurun;  a  re- 
gion whose  inhabitants  declare  their  intention  never  to 
become  Occidentalised,  and  whom  no  power  is  likely  to 
push  in  any  direction.  Being  under  the  Czar's  domin- 
ion, most  of  its  few  visitors  are  Russians;  they  alone 
among  Occidentals  possess  any  definite  knowledge  of 
its  choreography.  Princess  Chirinski-Chichmatoff,  at 
present  making  it  an  object  of  special  study,  writes  the 
following  in  reply  to  an  inquiry  from  the  authors : 

"Lezginka,  the  Oriental  Dance  of  the  Caucasus,  was 
born  in  the  mountains  of  a  beautiful  country  whose  na- 
ture is  wild  and  grandiose ;  among  a  people  courageous 
and  energetic,  who  have  preserved  much  of  the  sav- 
agery and  temperament  of  the  Oriental  races. 

"The  men  of  these  people  .  .  .  have  the  custom  of 
never  parting  from  the  poniard.  They  pass  the  greater 
part  of  their  time  horseback,  always  prepared  to  meet 
an  enemy  and  to  defend  the  happiness  and  honour  of 
the  family.  To  this  day  they  retain  the  custom  of  an- 
swering for  every  spilling  of  blood  with  a  revenge ;  each 


2i8  THE  DANCE 

victim  has  his  victim.  There  still  exists  the  custom  of 
abducting  the  fiancee  from  the  paternal  house  and  car- 
rying her  away  to  one's  own.  The  women  have  all  the 
timidity  of  beings  who  live  under  the  strongest  of  des- 
potism. They  have  preserved  all  the  softness  and  grace 
of  daughters  of  the  Orient,  with  body  accustomed  to 
careful  attention  and  not  to  any  physical  work;  who 
seek  only  to  rest,  to  look  at  themselves,  and  to  enjoy 
the  gifts  by  which  they  are  favoured  by  nature  and 
usage.  Under  this  exterior  the  woman  keeps  covered 
many  passions  which  sleep  until  the  first  moment  of 
provocation,  when  they  break  forth  like  the  eruption  of 
a  volcano — surrounding  her  with  fire  that  sweeps  with 
it  any  imprudent  one  that  happens  to  be  near.  Pas- 
sion is  the  principal  theme  in  the  life  of  an  Oriental 
woman,  and  that  sentiment  she  can  vary  like  a  vir- 
tuoso. ... 

"You  see  her  quiet,  beautiful,  relaxed,  in  the  calm  of 
a  great  fatigue,  with  softness  enveloping  face  and  move- 
ments. Suddenly  one  detects  an  unusual  sound,  a  look 
cast,  a  movement — she  is  fired,  she  becomes  fierce  and 
wild  like  all  the  Nature  around  her.  You  see  before 
you  a  tigress,  beautiful,  live  and  strong,  ready  to  spring 
on  the  prey,  playing  and  attracting,  making  mischief 
and  exhausting  herself  at  the  same  time.  After  which 
her  movements  become  few,  slow,  tired  and  melancholy. 

"Thus  is  Oriental  dancing  built  on  contrasts;  senti- 
ments and  moods  change  unexpectedly.  Gentle,  re- 
laxed and  melancholy,  of  a  sudden  it  is  brusque,  ani- 
mated, fiery.  It  has  much  coquetry,  passion,  and  often 
tragedy." 

In  India  dancing  is  sharply  divided  into  the  classes 
of  sacred  and  profane.     In  the  latter  division  are  to  be 


From  the  Dances  of  the  Falcon 
By  Zourna 


Shock  as  the  bird  strikes  his  quarry  (i)  —  Rejoicing  as  he  overcomes  it  (2) 


Dancing  Girls  of  Algiers 


To  face  page  219 


ORIENTAL  DANCING 


219 


Reuefs  on  Tower  of  the  Temple  of  Madura  (India). 


220  THE  DANCE 

found  dances  of  ceremony,  pantomimic  representa- 
tions of  wide  variety,  and  eccentricities  that  almost  tres- 
pass on  the  domain  of  sleight-of-hand.  The  best  known 
is  a  Dance  of  Eggs.  The  performer,  as  she  starts 
whirling,  takes  eggs  one  by  one  from  a  basket  that  she 
carries,  and  sets  them  into  slip-nooses  at  the  several  ends 
of  cords  that  hang  from  her  belt.  Centrifugal  motion 
pulls  each  cord  taut  as  soon  as  it  receives  the  weight  of 
an  egg.  Finally  all  the  cords,  numbering  from  a  dozen 
to  twenty,  are  extended,  each  bearing  its  insecurely 
fastened  egg.  The  dance  is  completed  by  collecting  the 
eggs  and  returning  them  unbroken  to  the  basket. 

Another  diversion  is  the  Cobra  Dance  popularised  in 
America  by  Miss  Ruth  St.  Denis — assisted  by  numer- 
ous imitators.  One  hand  is  held  in  a  shape  to  suggest 
the  form  of  a  cobra's  head,  and  huge  jewels  add  a  strik- 
ing resemblance  to  the  creature's  eyes.  The  performer 
of  the  cobra  representation  sits  cross-legged.  The 
hand  suggesting  the  snake's  head  glides  over  the  body, 
with  frequent  sudden  pauses  to  reconnoitre;  the  arm 
following  it — in  the  case  of  Miss  St.  Denis  so  amazingly 
supple  and  so  skilfully  made  to  seem  jointless  that  it  sug- 
gests the  snake's  body  almost  to  reality — takes  the  ap- 
propriate sinuous  movements  around  shoulders  and 
neck.  The  free  hand  completes  that  which  at  times  is 
almost  an  illusion  by  stroking  and  semi-guiding  the 
head.  Miss  St.  Denis  herself  watches  the  hand  with 
just  the  alertness  and  caution  to  convey  an  impression 
of  latent  danger  of  which  she,  the  snake  charmer,  is  not 
afraid,  but  which  she  must  anticipate  with  keen  atten- 
tion. Withal  she  never  for  an  instant  slips  from  her 
high  key  of  grace,  rhythm  and  style. 

It  is  to  Miss  St.  Denis  that  America  and  western 


Persian  Dance,  Princess  Chirinski-Chichmatoff 


To  face  page  Z20 


Representative  Oriental  Poses 
Miss  Ruth  St.  Denis 

Votive  offering  (3  poses)  —  Decorative  motives  (3  poses)  —  Disclosure  of  person 

(i  pose) 


To  face  page  211 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  221 

Europe  owe  the  greater  part  of  their  impressions  of  the 
dancing  of  the  Far  East.  She  has  given  the  subject 
years  of  study;  with  the  object,  far  more  comprehen- 
sive than  an  imitation  or  reproduction  of  specific  dances, 
of  interpreting  the  Oriental  spirit.  To  this  end  Miss 
St.  Denis  uses  the  structural  facts  of  the  various  dances 
as  a  basis  for  an  embodiment  of  their  character  in  such 
form  that  it  shall  be  comprehensible  to  Western  eyes 
and  among  Western  surroundings.  The  loss  insep- 
arable from  the  adaptation  of  such  a  creation  to  the 
conventions  of  the  stage,  she  compensates — perhaps 
more  than  compensates — by  a  concerted  use  of  lights, 
colour  and  music,  co-operating  to  produce  a  sense  of 
dreamy  wonder,  and  to  unite  in  the  expression  of  a 
certain  significance. 

Her  Nautch  Dance,  with  its  whirling  fountain  of 
golden  tissue,  she  sets  in  the  palace  of  a  rajah,  where 
it  serves  a  social  purpose  similar  to  that  of  the  Dance 
of  Greeting  already  described.  The  Spirit  of  Incense  is 
an  interpretation  of  the  contemplative  spirit  that  ac- 
companies Buddhistic  thought  and  worship.  The  Tem- 
ple— with  which  Miss  St.  Denis  remains  an  inseparable 
part,  in  the  mind  of  every  one  who  has  seen  it — throws 
the  spectator  into  an  attitude  of  something  like  awe  at 
the  rise  of  the  curtain,  so  perfectly  considered  is  an  in- 
definable relationship  of  magnificence  and  semi-gloom 
in  the  setting.  An  idol  occupies  a  shrine  in  the  centre 
of  the  stage.  After  a  stately  ritual  executed  by  priests, 
the  idol  (Radha)  descends  and  performs  a  Dance  of  the 
Five  Senses,  glorifying  physical  enjoyment.  Inter- 
woven with  increasing  manifestations  of  pleasure  in 
the  senses  is  a  counter-expression  of  increasing  despair. 
The  opposed  sentiments  reach  their  climaxes  simulta- 


222  THE  DANCE 

neously.  Radha  resumes  her  shrine,  and  the  attitude 
of  endless  contemplation,  in  token  that  peace  of  spirit 
lies  only  in  denial  of  sensual  claims. 

The  technical  character  with  which  Miss  St.  Denis 
invests  the  Indian  representations  is,  first,  the  elimina- 
tion of  any  movement  that  might  detract  from  a  feeling 
of  continuity.  Every  action  proceeds  in  waves ;  a  ripple 
slowly  undulates  down  the  body,  and  even  seems  to  con- 
tinue on  its  way  into  the  earth ;  like  a  wave  running  the 
length  of  a  cord,  a  ripple  glides  from  body  through  the 
extended  arms  and  fingers,  to  go  on  indefinitely  through 
the  air.  Rapid  movements  are  employed  only  enough 
to  meet  the  demands  of  variety.  Long  gesture,  long 
line,  deliberate  action  and  even  colour  quality  are  held 
in  an  indescribable  rapport  with  the  insistent  tempo 
with  which  the  whole  is  bound  together;  there  is  no 
escape  from  acceptance  of  the  resultant  multiple  rhythm ; 
it  is  inevitable.  A  simple,  rapid  movement,  therefore, 
introduced  with  due  consideration  of  all  the  parts  of 
the  complex,  magic  mechanism,  has  the  dramatic  power 
literally  to  startle. 

The  success  of  the  composition  as  a  whole,  in  its  pur- 
pose of  conveying  an  impression  of  the  very  essence 
of  an  aspect  of  India,  is  asserted  most  emphatically  by 
those  to  whom  that  mysterious  land  is  best  known.  To 
regard  the  production  as  an  exposition  of  Indian  dan- 
cing would  be  quite  beside  the  point.  The  dances, 
though  wholly  consistent  with  their  originals  in  point 
of  character,  are  only  a  part  of  a  whole.  Nor  do  they 
pretend  to  exploit  the  complete  range  of  Indian  choreo- 
graphy; Miss  St.  Denis  herself  would  be  the  first  to 
disclaim  any  such  intention.  As  she  explains  her  work, 
she  uses  the  dancing  of  a  people  as  a  basis  on  which  to 


Javanese  Dancer,  Modern 


To  face  page  MI 


Relief  Carvings,  Temple  of  Borobodul,  Java 
Dance  of  Greeting  [?]  (i)  —  Dance  of  Worship  (2)  —  An  Arrow  Dance  (3) 


To  face  page  Zij 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  223 

compose  a  translation  of  that  people's  point  of  view  and 
habit  of  thought. 

To  exactly  the  same  process  Bizet  subjected  the  music 
of  Spain  to  produce  the  score  of  Carmen;  Le  Sage  to 
construct  Gil  Bias.  Than  the  latter  there  is  nothing 
in  Spain  that  could  more  quickly  acquaint  a  foreigner 
with  certain  aspects  of  "Espaiiolism." 

A  link  with  antiquity  is  furnished  by  multitudinous 
carvings  of  dancers  on  Hindu  and  Buddhistic  temples 
in  India  and  Java.  The  temple  in  Java,  some  of  whose 
sculpture  is  here  reproduced,  was  recently  rediscovered 
after  several  centuries  of  burial  in  a  jungle.  It  is 
known  to  be  at  least  eight  hundred  years  old.  A  com- 
parison between  the  style  of  the  dancers  there  repre- 
sented, that  of  the  little  Javanese  present-day  dancer 
shown  in  a  photograph,  and  that  which  is  indicated  in 
line  drawings  (from  photographs  of  temples  in  India) 
hints  at  indefinite  age  back  of  Oriental  dancing  as  we 
know  it,  as  to  style,  technique  and  spirit.  The  photo- 
graphs, including  those  from  which  the  line  drawings 
were  made,  are  from  the  collection  of  Mr.  H.  C.  Os- 
trander. 

With  variations,  the  India  type  of  movement  and 
pantomime,  with  the  practice  of  striking  a  significant 
pose  at  regular  intervals,  continues  eastward  as  far  as 
the  Hawaiian  Islands.  The  Hula-Hula  of  the  graceful 
Hawaiians  has  been  well  exemplified  recently  in  an  in- 
terpolation in  The  Bird  of  Paradise.  Essentially,  the 
Hula-Hula  is  a  dance  of  coquetry;  its  thematic  posi- 
tion, which  recurs  like  a  refrain,  is  that  shown  in  one 
of  the  accompanying  drawings. 

Any  effort  to  trace  the  path  of  Oriental  dancing  far- 
ther east  than  the  Hawaiian  Islands  leads  to  the  shoals 


224  THE  DANCE 

of  unsubstantial  speculation.  Aztec  ruins  are  said  (on 
authority  not  vouched  for)  to  bear  carvings  that  show 
the  early  existence  of  the  India  type  of  dancing  in  Mex- 
ico. There  are  said  to  be  traces  of  India  influences  in 
the  dancing  of  Mexican  Indians  of  to-day.  But  the  in- 
terest of  such  fact — even  if  it  is  a  fact — is  more  closely 
related  to  ethnology  than  choreography;  because  it  is 
pretty  certain  that  any  trace  of  India  dancing  that  may 
exist  will  be  an  almost  unrecognisable  corruption.  The 
study  of  dances  on  grounds  of  oddity,  ethnological  curi- 
osity or  legendary  association  leads  away  from  the 
study  of  dancing  for  its  own  sake,  and  that  of  its  in- 
herent beauty.  It  is  in  the  endeavour  to  keep  within 
the  lines  of  reasonably  pure  choreography  that  this 
book  has  been  restrained  from  digressions  into  the 
quasi-dancing  of  American  Indians,  African  negroes, 
various  South  Sea  Islanders  and  many  other  interest- 
ing folk. 

Dancing  has  an  immense  importance  in  religious 
worship  of  most  of  the  many  denominations  of  India. 
Priestesses  are  trained  to  it;  corps  de  ballet  into  which 
they  are  organised  are  maintained  in  the  temples  under 
a  system  like  that  of  ancient  Egypt.  Their  rites  are  un- 
known— or  practically  so — to  those  outside  of  their  own 
faith.  In  other  cults  the  rites  are  performed,  in  part, 
by  laymen.  The  latter  ceremonies  include  a  not-to-be- 
described  orgy  periodically  celebrated  in  certain  Hindu 
temples,  by  women,  with  the  motives  of  propitiating 
Vishnu. 

China  has  a  school  of  rhythmic  pantomime,  the  move- 
ment of  which  hardly  justifies  its  consideration  as  a 
branch  of  real  dancing — so  far  as  known  to  the  authors. 
An  annual  religious  spectacle  is  to  be  noted:  in  it  are 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  225 

employed  animals'  heads,  recalling  the  Snake  Dance 
of  the  Hopi  Indians. 

Japan,  by  means  of  sundry  additions  to  the  older 
Chinese  school  of  mimetic  posturing,  has  converted  it 
into  an  organism  to  which  the  name  of  dancing  is  quite 
appropriate,  and  which  constitutes  by  far  the  greater 
portion  of  her  national  choreography. 

It  appears  that  the  dances  of  occasional  merry- 
makers, priestesses,  and  the  much-misunderstood 
Geishas  have  a  common  characteristic  of  slow,  even 
movement,  small  steps,  and  a  highly  abstract  pantomime. 
Of  a  style  distinct  from  these  are  certain  dances  of  men, 
including  a  stirring  dance  of  warriors;  in  which  group 
is  seen  vigourous  action,  a  good  proportion  of  open 
movement,  and  genuine  steps.  The  accepted  classifica- 
tion of  the  Japanese,  as  No,  or  sacred  dancing,  and  pro- 
fane, doubtless  has  its  merits ;  but  the  division  previously 
indicated,  distinguishing  between  dances  of  posture  and 
those  of  movement,  which  is  the  one  established  by  the 
eye,  is  at  least  convenient. 

With  choral  posture  and  gesture  the  Japanese  cele- 
brate auspicious  conditions  of  nature  or  happy  events 
in  the  family.  The  coming  of  spring;  the  cherry  blos- 
soms ;  the  season  of  fishing  with  cormorants ;  flowers  in 
general;  rice-harvest — in  honour  of  a  thousand  occur- 
rences may  be  imagined  groups  of  gaily  coloured  ki- 
monos enveloping  little  figures,  softly  and  rhythmically 
swaying  over  the  green,  from  each  kimono  protruding 
a  fan  or  a  bouquet  held  in  a  cloth-enshrouded  hand.  In 
the  tea-house  the  Geisha  (who  is  a  skilled  professional 
entertainer,  no  more  and  no  less)  pantomimes,  in  deli- 
cate symbol,  the  falling  of  the  petals  of  flowers,  the  hear- 
ing of  distant  music — any  motive  is  suitable,  apparently. 


226  THE  DANCE 

so  long  as  it  is  pretty,  dainty,  fanciful.  Movement  con- 
forms to  the  same  manner  of  thinking;  much  of  it 
barely  disturbs  the  silken  folds  of  the  kimono.  A  thou- 
sand meanings  are  hidden  in  little  turns  and  twists  of 
the  fan;  but,  when  explained,  the  connection  of  act  and 
meaning  is  often  so  tenuous  that  it  seems  less  mysteri- 
ous, or  suggestive,  than  merely  vague.  Nevertheless, 
taking  it  on  its  own  premise  as  a  demonstration  of  Japa- 
nese-doll prettiness,  which  is  not  concerned  with  any  but 
the  lightest  emotions,  this  type  of  dancing  is  pleasing. 
Its  virtue  is  its  gossamer  frailty. 

The  dances  of  war  fall  into  a  distinct  class.  Some  of 
the  drawings  of  Hokkai  represent  them:  combats  be- 
tween swordsmen,  or  between  a  swordsman  and  a  spear- 
man. The  dances  themselves  are  charged  with  a  vig- 
ourous  spirit  and  executed  with  big,  noble  movement  of 
flourished  weapons.  The  poses  follow  the  indefinable 
angularity  which,  through  the  very  consistency  of  its 
use,  is  an  agreeable  element  in  the  more  virile  school  of 
Japanese  drawing;  and  the  spicy  effect  of  sharpness  so 
produced  combines  to  admiration  with  the  crab-like  de- 
sign of  old  Japanese  armour. 

Other  men's  dances,  equally  vigourous,  are  recorded 
in  drawings.  But  any  exact  study  of  these  or  any 
other  dances  of  Japan  is  almost  hopelessly  handicapped 
by  a  scarcity  of  individuals  who  possess  the  desirable 
combination  of  definite  knowledge  and  personal  relia- 
bility. 

The  Japanese  theatrical  dancing,  so  called,  leads  into 
a  labyrinth  of  pantomime  both  subtle  and  involved,  and 
movement  so  slight  that  a  troop  of  dancers  can  continue 
in  action  four  consecutive  hours,  without  relays.  That 
is  almost  too  much  for  real  dancing,  under  existing  hu- 


"Nautch  Dance" 
Miss  Ruth  St.  Denis 


To  face  page  226 


Japanese  Dance 
Miss  Ruth  St.  Denis 


To  face  page  127 


ORIENTAL  DANCING  227 

man  limitations  of  heart  and  muscle.  The  ballet  dancer 
is  entitled  to  a  rest  after  a  solo  of  four  minutes;  to  the 
ballet,  therefore,  it  would  be  well  to  return,  for  the  cer- 
tainty that  the  discussion  is  safe  again  on  the  solid 
ground  of  reality. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  BALLET  IN   ITS  DARK  AGE 

WHEN  a  plant  has  passed  a  climax  of  luxuriant 
blossoming,  a  heedless  owner  is  likely  to  leave 
it  to  the  mercies  of  weather  and  worms,  while 
he  turns  his  interest  to  other  plants  whose  season  of 
bloom  is  just  beginning. 

Taglioni  and  Ellsler  faded  about  the  middle  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Cerito,  Grahn  and  Grisi  were,  at 
best,  unable  to  surpass  them.  Jenny  Lind  set  people 
talking  about  singers,  and  spending  their  time  listening 
to  songs.  Dancers,  desperately  straining  to  recatch 
the  lost  interest,  multiplied  entrechats  and  pirouettes, 
jumped  higher  and  more  bravely  than  ever.  Strain- 
ing for  technical  feats,  they  forgot  motive;  the  public 
called  the  ballet  meaningless,  its  work  a  stupid  form  of 
acrobatics,  its  smile  a  grimace.  A  genius  could  have 
made  such  words  seem  the  words  of  fools;  in  the  de- 
fault of  a  genius,  the  words  were  accepted  as  of  more 
or  less  true  judgment. 

The  years  that  followed  produced  a  certain  amount 
of  dancing  that  was  good,  notably  some  of  the  operatic 
ballets  of  Europe,  and  a  few  ballet  spectacles  of  the 
seventies  and  eighties;  more  that  could  not  exactly  be 
called  bad;  and,  lastly  and  principally,  a  series  of  mon- 
strosities that  were  nearly  infinite  in  both  number  and 
ugliness. 

In  trying  to  find  something  that  would  suit  the  new 

228 


BALLET  IN  ITS  DARK  AGE         229 

and  unsettled  state  of  the  public  taste,  managers  ap- 
parently tried  any  concoction  that  could  be  devised 
by  stage,  paint-bridge,  property  room  or  box-office. 
Montmartre  dance-halls  evolved  the  Can-can;  half  of 
Paris  caught  its  fever;  England,  and  thence  America, 
were  engulfed  in  the  lingerie  of  high  kickers.  Not 
dancers,  just  high  kickers. 

"One,  two,  three,  kick!"  was  their  vocabulary — 
or  is,  for  they  are  not  all  dead  yet. 

In  England  several  managers  at  various  times  of- 
fered good  productions,  with  casts  of  capable  artists. 
Of  such  productions  the  most  fortunate  made  small 
profits;  the  majority  lost  whatever  money  was  put  into 
them.  Managers  said  the  public  did  not  want  good 
work — a  deduction  apparently  justifiable.  They  devised 
the  elaborate  scenic  production — Aladdin's-cave  sort 
of  thing,  with  millions  of  jewels  the  size  of  roc's  eggs, 
delirious  with  yards  and  furlongs  of  red,  yellow  and 
green  foil-paper,  acres  of  chrome-yellow,  and  "magic 
transformation  scenes" ;  with  one  hundred  people  on  the 
stage,  one  hundred,  obviously  making  two  hundred  legs, 
every  one  of  which  was  considered  thrilling  and  dan- 
gerous in  those  days.  Of  all  those  legs  displayed  in 
all  their  amplitude,  usually  not  one  pair  could  dance  a 
step ;  but  they  did  not  need  to  dance. 

That  was  the  form  of  art  called  the  extravaganza. 
It  was  a  naughty  thing  to  patronise.  Its  inanities,  with- 
out its  "stupendous"  cost  of  production,  survive  in  the 
present-day  burlesque. 

In  the  morbid  conditions  of  Montmartre  there  came 
into  favour  a  species  of  acrobats  whose  aim  was  to  pro- 
duce the  illusion  that  their  legs  and  spines  were  out  of 
joint,  if  not  broken.     Although  of  an  ugliness  demo- 


230  THE  DANCE 

niac,  their  work  was  called  dancing.  "Wiry  Sal"  in 
England  and  "Ruth  the  Twister"  in  America  were  the 
illuminating  pseudonyms  associated  with  the  specialty. 
Perhaps  a  specimen  of  the  kind  might  still  be  unearthed 
in  a  dime  museum. 

Enter  Lottie  Collins,  she  of  "ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay." 
To  high  kicking  and  contortion,  and  the  Skirt  Dance 
vogue  of  the  moment,  she  added  action  so  violent  that 
it  seemed  a  menace  to  life  itself.  The  combination  of 
attractions  was  irresistible;  Europe  and  America  made 
her  rich.  Her  master-stroke  was  bending  back  until  her 
body  was  horizontal,  and  violently  straightening  up  to 
emphasise  the  "boom"  of  her  song.  For  no  less  than 
a  dancer  she  was  a  singer!  The  two  talents  were  em- 
ployed together.  And  hordes  of  little  plagiarists  of 
her  act,  as  of  every  other  "hit,"  brought  delight  to  the 
many  and  despair  to  the  few. 

Lottie  Collinsism  left  no  territory  to  be  explored  in 
its  direction.  So  an  eager  world  turned  to  the  inanity 
of  sweetness. 

The  dear  little  girl  had  been  discovered.  Evil  among 
days !  Preferably  she  was  dimpled.  She  wore  a  blond 
wig  with  curls  falling  artlessly  over  her  shoulders.  Her 
eyebrows  were  painted  in  a  smoothly  curved  arch  ex- 
tending ground  on  to  the  sides  of  her  face,  and  her 
eyes  were  shaded  with  the  luxuriant  lashes  begot  of 
heavy  "beading";  they,  too,  were  carried  out  an  indefi- 
nite distance  to  the  sides.  She  dressed  as  a  child  of 
twelve,  with  a  sash  that  conveyed  the  idea  of  being 
dressed  for  Sunday-school;  imagination  always  sup- 
plied a  cent  gripped  in  her  fist.  She  wore  "cunning" 
little  low-heeled  shoes,  with  straps.  It  was  not  amiss 
that  she  have  some  sort  of  sunbonnet,  of  lace,  slipped 


BALLET  IN  ITS  DARK  AGE       231 

carelessly  off  her  flaxen  head  and  hanging  down  her 
back.  Rouge,  with  a  bloom  of  rice  powder,  gave  her 
a  perfect  peaches-and-cream  complexion.  Grease  paint 
widened  and  shortened  her  lips,  curved  them  into 
an  infantile  cupid's  bow.  And  from  that  cupid's  bow 
emerged,  in  piercing  calliope  tones,  inflectionless  recit- 
als of  her  devotion  to  her  dear  old  mother.  At  the  end 
of  each  stanza  she  had  a  little  dance — usually  a  slow 
polka-step,  one,  two,  three  and  kick!  (An  irreproach- 
ably discreet  little  kick,  to  the  side.)  Repeat  four 
times  each  side,  and  on  to  the  next  stanza — ^which  in- 
stead of  "mother"  and  "other,"  will  avail  itself  of  the 
felicitous  rhyme  of  "roam"  and  "home,"  or  "heart" 
and  "part." 

Lest  the  enumeration  of  the  foregoing  horrors  should 
be  criticised  as  out  of  place  in  a  discussion  of  dancing, 
be  it  recorded  at  this  point  that  the  said  horrors  went 
under  the  name  of  dancing  within  easy  remembrance 
of  people  now  living,  that  there  are  still  people  living 
who  call  them  dancing,  and — for  artistic  sins  of  the 
world  as  yet  unexpiated — they  still  influence  the  dan- 
cing situation  in  these  United  States. 

The  Black  Crook  is  a  name  that  stands  for  superla- 
tives. It  was  the  most  lavish  spectacle  America  ever 
had  seen.  It  made  such  a  "hit"  as  rarely  has  been 
duplicated  since.  Its  dancing  features,  which  were  of 
the  first  order,  made  more  of  an  impression  than  had 
any  dancing  in  this  country  since  Ellsler's  tour,  in  1840, 
'41  and  '42.  Its  origin  was  in  part  due  to  the  some- 
times favourable  factor  of  accident. 

"In  consequence  of  the  destruction  by  fire  of  the 
Academy  of  Music,  this  city,"  writes  J.  Allston  Brown 
in  his  History  of  the  New  York  Stage,  "Jarrett  and 


232  THE  DANCE 

Palmer,  who  were  to  have  produced  La  Biche  au  Bois 
there,  had  on  their  hands  a  number  of  artists  brought 
from  Europe.  They  made  an  arrangement  with  Wil- 
liam Wheatley  to  utilise  the  ballet  troupe,  the  chief 
scenic  effects,  of  which  they  had  models,  and  the  trans- 
formation scene."  From  those  beginnings  grew  The 
Black  Crook.  With  Marie  Bonfanti,  Rita  Sangalli, 
Betty  Rigl  and  Rose  Delval  as  principal  dancers,  it 
opened  at  Niblo's  Garden  in  September,  1866.  The 
run  closed  in  January,  1868,  after  475  performances. 
A  return  to  Niblo's  in  December,  1870,  yielded  122  per- 
formances. December  of  the  following  year  added  57 
to  the  score.  A  revival  in  August,  1872,  brought  into 
the  company  the  Kiralfy  family,  dancers,  among  whom 
were  the  brothers  destined  to  fame  as  managers  and 
producers.  This  1872  revival  ran  twelve  weeks.  In 
1874,  Kiralfy  Brothers  appear  as  lessees  of  the  Grand 
Opera  House.  They  initiated  their  term  with  The 
Black  Crook,  with  Bonfanti  as  premiere. 

Of  American  appreciation  of  good  dancing  panto- 
mime, during  that  period,  at  least,  there  is  no  question. 
It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  New  York  perform- 
ances above  mentioned  represent  only  a  fraction  of  the 
production's  total  business.  The  tours  that  largely 
occupied  the  intervals  met  the  same  success.  The  box- 
office  measure  of  public  enthusiasm  is  incomplete,  more- 
over, without  mention  of  Humpty  Dumpty,  also  a  spec- 
tacular pantomime  with  good  dancing.  Of  its  first  run 
(in  New  York,  and  largely  coinciding  with  the  first 
run  of  The  Black  Crook  in  point  of  time)  the  gross  re- 
ceipts were  $1,406,000.  It  was  commensurately  profit- 
able as  a  "road"  attraction.  Pertinent  to  the  quality  of 
its  dancing,  we  have  a  few  words  of  its  manager,  Clif- 


BALLET  IN  ITS  DARK  AGE       233 

ton  W.  Tayleure,  as  quoted  by  Brown:  ".  .  .  princi- 
pal dancers  were  not  easily  to  be  found.  A  quarrel 
between  Vestvalli  and  Sangalli  enabled  me  to  secure  the 
latter.  Betty  and  Emily  Rigl,  who  had  previously  se- 
ceded from  Niblo's,  were  also  secured." 

Notwithstanding  desertions,  The  Black  Crook  main- 
tained its  high  standards.  Its  ballet  has  never  since 
been  equalled  in  America,  according  to  Mme.  Bonfanti, 
in  the  classic  style  of  work. 

For  its  managers,  at  least,  dancing  had  earned  for- 
tunes. To  the  Kiralfys  it  was  evident,  too,  that  the 
kind  of  dancing  America  wanted  was  good  dancing. 
To  produce  their  Excelsior  in  1882  they  brought  from 
Paris  Sr.  Ettore  Coppini,  now  ballet-master  of  the 
Metropolitan  Opera;  and  George  Saracco,  now  ballet- 
master  of  the  Brussels  Opera,  as  a  leading  dancer. 
Nor  did  Jarrett  and  Palmer  modify  their  faith  in  qual- 
ity. Their  White  Fawn,  with  an  excellent  ballet,  was 
little  less  successful  than  The  Black  Crook. 

The  fame  of  such  works  is  food  for  parasites;  crea- 
tures incapable  of  discerning  the  quality  of  successful 
works,  and  upon  whom  the  goodness  of  the  success- 
ful dancing  had  made  no  impression.  Black  Crook  and 
White  Fawn  companies  overran  the  country  like  a  flood 
of  counterfeit  money — one  part  fine,  ninety-nine  parts 
base.  Plausible  advertising  protected  the  deception,  but 
only  for  a  time.  It  was  not  long  before  lovers  of  good 
dancing  began  to  realise  that  they  were  being  defrauded. 

In  a  similar  contingency,  the  supporting  public  of  a 
baseball  club  loses  no  time  in  applying  to  that  club's 
manager  whatever  pressure  may  be  necessary  as  a 
means  to  correcting  shortcomings,  as  far  as  within  him 
lies.     The  source  of  their  ability  to  do  this  is  twofold: 


234  THE  DANCE 

they  can  analyse  the  game,  and  they  have  a  vocabulary 
in  which  to  express  themselves.  Baseball  had  not  so 
many  enthusiasts  in  those  days  as  dancing  had.  But 
the  appreciators  of  dancing  lacked  analytical  knowledge 
of  the  art,  and  the  language  in  which  to  discuss  it. 
Promoters  of  counterfeits  were  not  taken  to  task,  there- 
fore, as  would  have  been  to  their  own  good.  Instead, 
the  names  of  Black  Crook,  White  Fawn,  dancing  and 
pantomime  became  synonyms  for  theatrical  imposition, 
and  America  laid  aside  interest  in  them  and  all  their 
appurtenances. 

Of  all  the  consequences  of  the  above  incidents,  per- 
haps the  most  unfortunate  was  a  generally  accepted 
managerial  deduction  that  America  does  not  like  dan- 
cing after  all.  Though  the  Russian  ballet  has  shaken 
that  belief,  the  belief  is  not  dead  yet. 

There  is  a  saying  that  no  man  is  indispensable;  that, 
after  his  removal,  there  is  always  another  to  take  his 
place.     The  saying  is  not  true. 

Pantomime — not  dancing  to  be  sure,  but  so  closely 
related  to  it  that  the  prosperity  of  either  usually  means 
that  of  both — at  one  time  had  the  alliance  of  Augustin 
Daly.  He  believed  in  it  as  a  great  art,  and  contem- 
plated increasingly  ambitious  productions.  To  those 
closely  associated  with  him  he  declared  himself  willing 
to  lose  money  on  it  for  three  years,  and  more  if  neces- 
sary; he  was  confident  that  eventually  it  would  attain 
to  great  popularity  in  this  country.  But  after  produ- 
cing L'Enfant  Prodigue  and  Pygmalion  and  Galatea, 
death  stepped  in  and  took  away  from  the  stage  one  of 
the  best  influences  it  ever  had,  and  from  dancing  a 
possible  friendship  of  the  kind  it  sorely  needed. 


BALLET  IN  ITS  DARK  AGE       235 

In  the  eighties  there  was  in  Chicago  a  child  who  had 
considerable  fame  as  a  temperance  lecturer.  Her  name 
was  Loie  Fuller.  She  was  moved  to  take  dancing  les- 
sons; but  (according  to  biographers)  gave  them  up 
after  a  few  lessons,  on  account  of  difficulty.  After 
a  certain  amount  of  voice  culture,  she  qualified  as  an 
actress  with  a  singing  part.  During  an  engagement 
in  this  capacity  she  received,  from  a  friend  in  India, 
a  present  of  a  long  scarf  of  extremely  thin  silk.  While 
playing  with  it,  delighting  in  its  power  to  float  in  the 
air  almost  like  a  vapour,  Miss  Fuller  received  the  idea 
that  was  to  bring  her  before  the  world,  the  Serpentine 
Dance.  The  dance  was  there  in  its  essence,  needing 
only  arrangement  and  polish,  and  surety  of  keeping  a 
great  volume  of  cloth  afloat  without  entanglement. 
Steps  were  of  no  consequence,  nor  quality  of  movement 
in  arms  or  body.  The  cloth  was  the  thing,  and  Miss 
Fuller  lost  no  time  on  non-essentials. 

The  success  of  the  Serpentine  was  not  one  of  those 
victories  gained  after  long  experimenting  for  a  perfect 
expression,  patiently  educating  the  public,  and  years  of 
disappointments.  It  was  instantaneous  and  complete; 
a  few  weeks  sufficed  to  make  Loie  Fuller  a  national 
figure.  A  period  of  tremendous  popularity  followed, 
popularity  amounting  to  a  fashion.  And  still  another 
impulse  was  to  come,  second  only  in  importance  to  the 
use  of  the  gauze  itself. 

In  Paris  Miss  Fuller  had  a  sketch  in  which  she,  a 
solitary  figure,  stood  on  a  height  at  dawn,  silhouetted 
against  the  sky.  The  rising  sun  was  arranged  to  il- 
luminate, one  after  another,  the  prominences  in  the 
landscape  falling  away  into  the  distance.     The  figure, 


236  THE  DANCE 

on  being  touched  by  the  rays,  represented  its  awaken- 
ing by  the  fluttering,  raising  and  full  play  of  its  hun- 
dred yards  or  so  of  drapery. 

It  happened  that  an  audience  mistook  the  intent  of 
the  efifect,  and  greeted  it  as  a  dance  of  fire.  The  up- 
ward rush  of  the  cloth,  obviously,  had  suggested  flame. 
"La  Loie"  lost  not  a  moment  in  seeing  the  possibilities, 
nor  an  hour  in  setting  to  work  on  their  development. 
Stage  electric  lighting  was  new ;  so  new  that  it  acknowl- 
edged no  limitations.  Electricians  were  enthusiastic 
over  new  problems,  because  new  problems  were  being 
solved  by  new  and  sometimes  sensational  inventions. 
To  lighting  Miss  Fuller  turned  to  make  the  effect  of 
the  fire  dance  unmistakable  and  startling.  With  the 
result  that  the  colours  and  movement  of  flame  were  al- 
most counterfeited.  Variously  coloured  glasses  lent 
their  tints  to  the  rays  of  spot  lights ;  set  into  discs  made 
to  revolve  in  front  of  the  lamp,  they  simulated  the  up- 
ward rush  that  helps  make  flame  exciting.  As  a  pre- 
caution against  theft  of  ideas,  the  essential  parts  of  the 
electric  arrangements  are  said  to  have  been  trusted 
exclusively  to  Miss  Fuller's  brothers. 

La  Danse  de  Feu,  consistently  prepared  as  such,  cre- 
ated an  enthusiasm  in  Paris  probably  equal  to  the  "hit" 
of  the  Serpentine  in  America.  Indeed  Miss  Fuller  was 
practically  adopted  into  the  French  nation,  where  she 
was  affectionately  and  widely  known  as  "La  Loie." 
French  is  the  language  in  which  she  wrote  her  memoirs. 
{Mes  Memoires,  Loie  Fuller.) 

Her  work,  always  startling,  never  failed  of  being 
agreeable  also.  By  a  loose  application  of  the  word  it 
was  justified  in  being  called  dancing.  Strictly  speak- 
ing it  was  not,  from  the  point  of  view  of  step,  movement 


BALLET  IN  ITS  DARK  AGE       237 

or  posture.  Interest  in  steps  the  work  frankly  dis- 
claimed by  its  own  terms ;  an  easy  movement  from  place 
to  place,  with  reference  always  to  the  drapery,  was  all 
that  was  undertaken  in  the  department  of  foot-work. 
The  arms  were  equally  subordinated  to  the  drapery; 
their  movements,  as  interpretation  or  decoration,  meant 
nothing.  The  performer  held  in  each  hand  a  short  pole 
as  aid  to  manipulation  of  the  cloth,  in  which  her  arms 
were  buried  most  of  the  time.  They  committed  no 
awkwardness,  nor  did  they  contribute  to  the  effect  ex- 
cept as  they  furnished  motive  power.  As  to  the  drap- 
ery, any  idea  of  making  it  a  vehicle  of  controlled  lines 
would  obviously  have  been  out  of  the  question.  Colour 
without  form  was  the  result ;  and  form,  when  all  is  said 
and  done,  is  the  essence  not  only  of  dancing,  but  of  any 
art  that  would  attempt  to  convey  a  message  to  the  senses 
as  well  as  pleasure  to  the  eye. 

Imitators  affected  Miss  Fuller  very  little.  So  closely 
were  her  means  guarded — it  is  said  that  no  one  of  her 
designers  and  sewing-women  knew  more  than  a  part 
of  the  construction  of  her  draperies — that  attempts  to 
reproduce  her  work  were  generally  laborious  compro- 
mises with  failure.  But  the  musical  comedy  stage  un- 
derwent an  inundation  of  illuminated  dry-goods.  With 
the  mechanical  problem  simplified  by  the  distribution 
of  the  hundred  yards  of  drapery  among  forty  people, 
there  followed  a  sea  of  cavorting  rainbows  and  prisms 
that  lacked  even  a  semi-careful  selection  of  colours. 

The  World's  Fair  in  Chicago  brought  to  America  a 
variety  of  dancers,  most  of  them  good.  The  novelty 
element  was  the  work  of  the  Orient.  The  Oriental 
point  of  view  differs  from  that  of  England  and  Amer- 
ica; it  accepts  as  natural  the  existence  of  sex.     In  all 


238  THE  DANCE 

its  expressions,  whether  literary,  sculptural,  pictorial, 
or  choreographic,  the  subject  of  sex  is  neither  avoided 
nor  emphasised.  It  takes  its  place  among  the  actua- 
ting dramatic  motives  exactly  as  it  has  done  in  the  ex- 
pressions of  all  civilisations  of  all  times,  except  those 
of  our  Anglo-Saxon  civilisation  since  about  1620,  in 
which  it  is  evaded,  and  of  certain  decadent  civilisations, 
where  it  is  an  obsession. 

The  World's  F^ir  crowd  was  so  amazed  by  the  Ori- 
ental disregard  of  Puritan  tradition  that  it  could  see 
nothing  in  dances  of  India  and  North  Africa  except 
obscenity.  Instead  of  trying  to  acquaint  the  public  with 
the  wealth  of  poetic  symbolism  of  the  dances,  and  their 
unlimited  scope  of  meaning,  every  manager  on  the  Mid- 
way at  once  adopted  the  motto  of  the  majority  of  his 
profession :  "Give  the  public  what  it  wants."  That  at 
least  is  the  inference  from  conditions.  Before  the  fair 
was  a  month  old  there  was  hardly  an  Oriental  dancing 
attraction  on  the  grounds  that  did  not  claim,  in  the 
sly-dog^  language  of  naughty  suggestion,  to  surpass  all 
competitors  in  lewdness.  And  it  verily  seemed  as 
though  most  of  them  were  justified  in  their  claims. 

They  all  made  money.  And  they  created  against 
Oriental  dancing  a  prejudice  just  beginning  to  melt 
now  at  the  end  of  twenty  years ;  the  majority  of  the  pub- 
lic is  still  convinced  that  no  Oriental  dancing  is  any- 
thing but  a  pretext  for  offensiveness.  For  any  physical 
quality  truly  is  offensive  the  moment  it  is  unduly  in- 
sisted upon.  And  with  few  exceptions  the  managers 
of  the  unhappy  Arabs  dancing  in  this  country  have  in- 
spired their  charges  to  exaggerate  one  quality  to  the 
almost  complete  exclusion  of  every  other  one. 

The  ghastly  reaction  of  such  a  state  of  affairs  is  on 


BALLET  IN  ITS  DARK  AGE       239 

dancing  in  general.  In  this  present  year,  1913,  one  of 
the  most  prominent  and  successful  managers  in  Amer- 
ica said:  "There  are  two  ways  to  succeed  with  dan- 
cers. If  they  have  a  sensational  acrobatic  novelty  that 
never  has  been  seen  before,  that  will  make  money. 
Otherwise  you've  got  to  take  their  clothes  off,  if  you 
want  anybody  to  look  at  'em.  Duncan?  St.  Denis? 
What  does  the  American  public  care  about  art?  They 
have  succeeded  because  they  took  their  clothes  off." 

It  sounds  unreal,  it  is  so  demonstrably  silly.  But  it 
was  what  that  manager  said.  In  his  profession  there 
are  several  who  hold  contrary  beliefs;  but  the  one 
quoted  is  of  the  opinion  common  among  the  present 
custodians  of  the  dancing  art  in  America.  In  their 
offices  is  determined  what  character  of  dancing  shall 
occupy  the  stage ;  to  their  beliefs  the  lover  of  good  dan- 
cing must  give  heed. 

Any  refutation  of  the  above  cynicism  as  affecting 
Miss  Duncan  and  Miss  St.  Denis  is  superfluous.  Their 
work  has  at  all  times  been  charged  with  a  big,  roman- 
tic or  mystic  meaning.  Imitators,  basing  their  activi- 
ties on  the  manager's  creed  above  quoted,  have  furnished 
an  illuminating  experiment  to  determine  exactly  what 
interest  the  public  finds  in  the  work  of  the  two  artists 
named.  Invariable  failure  has  accompanied  their  ap- 
proximate nudity,  despite  the  fact  that  many  of  them 
are  pretty  in  face  and  figure. 

Great  dancers  have  come,  been  seen,  but — until  the 
coming  of  the  Russians — have  achieved  few  victories 
of  lasting  value.  Genee  is  an  exception;  to  delight  in 
her  work  is  to  be  added  a  real  influence  in  favour  of 
real  art.  Carmencita,  Otero  and  Rosario  Guerrero, 
all  great  artists  of  expression  conveyed  through  the 


240  THE  DANCE 

medium  of  the  dances  of  Spain,  have  had  good  seasons 
in  this  country.  Even  though  their  influence  on  taste 
did  not  seem  far-reaching,  it  must  be  beHeved  that  they 
helped  prepare  the  way  for  great  things  that  were  to 
come. 

But  the  real  force  of  the  coming  change,  the  change 
that  was  to  take  its  place  among  the  important  revolu- 
tions in  the  history  of  all  art  was  quietly  preparing  itself 
in  an  American  village. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION 

THERE  are  few  people  who  are  complete  iii  any 
one  direction.  The  statesman  hesitates  at  a 
measure  that  will  wreck  his  political  organisa- 
tion, unless  he  is  a  complete  statesman.  The  yachts- 
man will  lose  a  race  to  pick  up  a  man  overboard,  unless 
he  is  an  unscrupulous  or  complete  racing  fiend.  A  cor- 
poration manager  who  disregards  every  consideration 
except  his  end  may  be  a  law-breaker,  but  before  that 
he  is  a  complete  business  man.  Cromwell  and  Luther 
were  complete  reformers.  Most  people  in  the  arts  are 
incomplete  artists,  because  they  hesitate  to  depart  from 
accepted  means  of  expression.  They  cripple  impulse 
with  logic,  and  accommodate  their  course  more  or  less 
to  other  people's  opinions.  Noverre  was  a  complete 
stage  director.  Isadora  Duncan  is  a  complete  disciple 
of  beauty. 

Beauty  in  all  its  natural  manifestations  is  her  reli- 
gion. Waves  and  clouds  and  running  water,  the  nude 
body  and  its  natural  movements  are  the  tokens  by  which 
it  is  revealed  to  her.  Its  high  priests,  by  her  creed, 
were  the  Greeks  of  old.  And,  conversely,  all  other 
priests  are  false.  In  the  soul  afire  with  a  cause  there 
is  no  room  for  adjustment  of  points  of  view;  such  ad- 
justments bear  the  form  of  compromise.  That  which 
is  not  right  is  wrong — not  even  partly  right,  but  hope- 
lessly, damnably  wrong.    A  state  of  mind  exactly  as 

241 


242  THE  DANCE 

it  should  be  in  a  person  with  an  idea,  and  exactly  as  it 
must  be  if  he  is  going  to  carry  the  idea  to  fruition. 

Miss  Duncan  is  not  in  attunement  with  the  ballet, 
and  never  was.  She  is  a  worshipper  of  nature;  not  as 
translated  into  abstract  terms,  but  as  nature  is,  as  re- 
vealed in  the  waves  and  clouds  and  running  water.  If 
she  were  a  leader  in  a  logical  controversy  instead  of  one 
of  taste,  it  would  be  in  order  to  question  how  she  tol- 
erates modern  music,  instead  of  insisting  on  a  reversion 
to  the  music  of  the  winds  in  the  trees ;  for  certainly  the 
piano  is  no  less  a  man-made  convention  than  the  dan- 
cer's position  sur  la  pointe,  and  orchestration  is  far  from 
the  sounds  of  nature.  But  the  controversy  is  not  an 
affair  of  logic,  and  it  follows  that  any  question  prompted 
by  logical  considerations  becomes  illogical,  automat- 
ically. The  point  at  issue  is  that  Miss  Duncan,  com- 
plete disciple  of  beauty,  is  a  complete  opponent  of 
beauty  expressed  otherwise  than  in  the  way  revealed 
to  her.  Again,  lest  this  analysis  bear  any  resemblance 
to  criticism,  let  it  be  affirmed  that  her  attitude  is  exactly 
as  it  should  be  in  relation  to  her  destiny. 

At  an  early  age  she  was  fascinated  by  the  representa- 
tions of  dancing  to  be  found  on  Greek  ceramics,  and  in 
Tanagra  and  other  figures.  A  work  of  art  means 
many  things  to  many  people.  What  Miss  Duncan  saw 
in  the  early  representations  was  a  direct  and  perfect  ex- 
pression of  nature.  Among  other  elements,  she  noted 
in  them  a  full  acknowledgment  of  the  law  of  gravity, 
which  is  an  obviously  natural  quality.  Now,  Miss  Dun- 
can's essay  The  Dance  shows  in  her  mind  not  the  first 
stirrings  of  a  question  as  to  whether  gravity  may  not  be 
an  unfortunate  mortal  limitation.  On  the  contrary,  it 
is  natural,  therefore  right.     Therefore  the  ballet,   in 


Isadora  Duncan 


To  face  page  241 


Photograph  by  Claude  Harris 


Greek  Interpretative  Dance 
Mme.  Pavlowa 


To  face  page  14} 


THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION    243 

denying  gravity,  is  wrong.  The  Greeks  usually  danced 
without  shoes;  bare  went  the  feet  of  Miss  Duncan. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  her  ideal  contemplated 
an  imitation  of  natural  actions,  or  had  any  relation  to 
realism.  Natural  qualities,  not  actions,  she  proposed 
to  interpret,  not  imitate,  by  means  of  natural  move- 
ments. That  is  at  least  the  inference  pointed  by  the 
essay  referred  to,  confirmed  by  her  work.  "Natural 
movements"  would  be  defined,  if  the  same  process  of 
inference  may  be  followed,  as  movements  whose  execu- 
tion are  possible  by  a  normal  body  without  special  train- 
ing. From  this  it  does  not  follow  that  uncultivated 
movements  would  be  acceptable  by  the  terms  of  the 
proposition.  To  raise  an  arm  is  a  natural  movement, 
hence  acceptable  to  this  code.  To  learn  to  raise  it 
gracefully,  a  Duncanite  would  need  to  put  in  just  as 
much  time  and  thought  as  a  ballet  student,  standards 
of  grace  being  equal.  It  does,  however,  follow  that 
any  gravity-defying  step  would  be  unacceptable  by  the 
terms  of  the  proposition.  Without  special  training  it 
cannot  be  executed,  badly,  or  at  all;  which,  from  the 
Duncan  point  of  view,  would  throw  it  into  the  class  of 
unnatural  movements. 

To  fix  the  meaning  of  the  idea  of  interpreting  nat- 
ural qualities,  nothing  better  can  be  done  than  to  quote 
a  paragraph  of  Miss  Duncan's  own  words:  "These 
flowers  before  me  contain  the  dream  of  a  dance;  it 
could  be  named:  'The  light  falling  on  white  flowers.* 
A  dance  that  would  be  a  subtle  translation  of  the  light 
and  the  whiteness — so  pure,  so  strong,  that  people 
would  say,  Tt  is  a  soul  we  see  moving,  a  soul  that  has 
reached  the  light  and  found  the  whiteness.  We  are 
glad  it  should  move  so.'     Through  its  human  medium 


244  THE  DANCE 

we  have  a  satisfying  sense  of  the  movement  of  hght 
and  glad  things.  Through  this  human  medium,  the 
movement  of  all  nature  runs  also  through  us,  is  trans- 
mitted to  us  from  the  dancer.  We  feel  the  movement 
of  light  intermingled  with  the  thought  of  whiteness. 
It  is  a  prayer,  this  dance,  each  movement  reaches  in 
long  undulations  to  the  heavens  and  becomes  a  part  of 
the  eternal  rhythm  of  the  spheres." 

Fifteen  years  ago  a  creed  of  interpreting  qualities 
in  the  manner  above  indicated,  by  means  of  dancing, 
was  quite  as  alien  to  the  United  States  as  was  the 
Greek  costume  that  left  the  legs  uncovered  and  the  feet 
unshod.  The  costume  probably  was  as  surprising  on 
the  stage  then  as  it  would  be  in  a  ballroom  now.  And 
right  there  comes  in  the  complete  artist.  Miss  Dun- 
can knew  she  was  right,  and  she  went  ahead.  Perhaps 
she  anticipated  the  snickers  with  which  a  new  idea  is 
usually  greeted;  more  likely  she  was  sublimely  heed- 
less of  immediate  effects. 

It  was  in  1899,  or  thereabout,  that  she  gave  a  recital 
in  the  little  theatre  of  a  dramatic  school  in  Chicago, 
before  an  audience  principally  of  dramatic  students, 


Impressions  of  Isadora  Duncan. 


THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION    245 

painters  and  sculptors.  After  the  performance,  which 
took  place  in  the  morning,  the  painters  and  sculptors 
unconsciously  grouped  themselves  into  informal  com- 
mittees to  exchange  verdicts.  The  general  conclusion 
— arrived  at  after  hours  of  acrimonious  argument,  in 
most  cases — was  that  the  young  woman  had  an  idea, 
but  that  clairvoyancy  was  required  to  understand  it. 
At  that  time,  it  should  be  added,  Miss  Duncan  was  far 
from  mature  in  grace,  surety  or  any  other  of  the  tech- 
nical qualities;  and  her  art,  naive  though  it  be,  has 
its  technical  requirements  just  as  surely  as  any  other 
art. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  transfer  attention  to  certain 
people  whose  path  and  Miss  Duncan's  were  beginning 
to  converge. 

In  Russia  the  ballet  is  as  definitely  a  ward  of  the 
government  as  the  army  is.  No  more  carefully  are  can- 
didates for  a  national  military  academy  selected  than 
are  applicants  for  admission  to  the  Imperial  Ballet 
Academy. 

Those  admitted  are  cared  for  as  though  each  were 
an  heir  to  the  throne,  given  an  all-round  art  education 
that  could  not  be  duplicated  anywhere  else  in  the  world, 
and  rigourously  drilled  in  dancing  six  days  a  week  for 
seven  or  eight  years.  As  they  qualify  for  it,  they  ap- 
pear on  occasion  in  the  corps  de  ballet  of  the  Imperial 
Opera,  dear  to  the  hearts  of  nobility  and  a  theatre- 
going  public.  By  the  terms  of  agreement  with  the  gov- 
ernment, they  are  assured  employment  at  specified  pay 
for  a  specified  number  of  years  in  the  ballet,  after  which 
they  retire  on  a  pension.  The  pay  is  not  high,  but  with 
it  is  an  assured  career  and  an  honourable  one,  and  a 
likelihood  of  considerable  emolument  through  instruc- 


246  THE  DANCE 

tion,  imperial  gifts  and  government  favours.  Withal 
a  thing  not  lightly  to  be  thrown  away. 

Like  their  contemporaries  in  Paris  and  Vienna,  the 
people  of  St.  Petersburg  and  Moscow  (homes  of  the  two 
Imperial  Opera  Houses  and  of  the  two  arms  of  the 
Academy)  were  dissatisfied  with  their  ballet.  Beyond 
the  vague  charge  of  lack  of  interest  they  could  not 
analyse  their  complaint.  They  were  puzzled.  Train- 
ing more  careful  than  that  given  in  their  Academy  could 
not  be.  Nor  was  any  school  of  the  dance  superior  to 
the  composite  French-Italian  on  which  the  Russian  bal- 
let was  based.  Each  detailed  objection  was  answered; 
yet  a  decided  majority  agreed  that  something  was 
wrong. 

Miss  Duncan,  rightly  believing  that  Europe  was 
more  attentive  than  America  to  a  new  idea,  had  left  her 
native  land  after  a  period  of  neither  success  nor  failure 
in  any  pronounced  degree.  She  had  interested  Paris, 
startled  Berlin,  and  set  Vienna  into  a  turmoil  of  wran- 
gling. St.  Petersburg  waited,  with  interest  aroused 
by  echoes  from  Vienna. 

Before  the  end  of  the  St.  Petersburg  performance, 
M.  Mikail  Fokine,  a  director  in  the  Academy,  had  not 
only  declared  Miss  Duncan  a  goddess,  as  he  had  a  per- 
fect right  to;  he,  with  others,  had  invited  her  to  give  a 
special  performance  in  the  Academy,  and  that  was 
against  the  rules. 

The  special  performance  was  given;  the  Romantic 
Rebellion  dates  from  that  hour.  In  no  time  at  all  the  se- 
cessionists were  a  body  including  some  of  the  ablest 
of  both  masters  and  pupils. 

With  Miss  Duncan's  technical  limitations  or  virtu- 
osity  they   were   not   concerned.     What   she   brought 


Mlle.  Lopoukowa  Mlle.  Nijinska 

Mlle.  Pavlowa 

With  the  famous  instructor,  Sr.  E.  Ceccetti.     From  an  amateur  photograph  taken 
in  their  student  period 


To  face  page  Z46 


Mlle.  Lydia  Kyasht  and  M.  Lytazkin 
"Harlequin  and  Blue-bird" 


To  face  page  147 


THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION    247 

them  was  the  vision  of  the  ballet  now  known  to  the 
world  as  Russian.  To  lost  pensions  and  the  certain 
displeasure  of  a  firm-handed  government  they  gave  no 
heed.  They  were  complete  idealists,  bent  on  a  big  pur- 
pose. Of  the  stories  of  that  secession  that  we  have 
had  from  various  participants,  not  one  shows  the  faint- 
est reflection  that  any  of  the  band  thought  of  the  possi- 
ble sacrifice  of  his  career.  They  were  not  estimating 
material  prospects.  They  simply  saw  the  vision  of 
something  that  looked  better  to  them  than  the  art  they 
had  known;  into  the  path  indicated  by  that  vision  they 
turned  without  vacillation,  and  without  emotion  save 
enthusiasm. 

With  the  fact  that  they  were  the  advance  guard  of 
a  movement  that  was  about  to  assume  a  significance 
equal  to  that  of  the  Barbizon  School  in  painting  and  of 
Victor  Hugo  in  literature,  these  Russians — boys  and 
girls  in  age,  most  of  them — were  as  supremely  uncon- 
cerned as  were  Adam  and  Eve  with  the  destiny  of  the 
race  of  which  they  were  founders.  To  a  group  of  in- 
complete artists  the  epic  romance  of  the  thing  would 
have  appealed,  and  there  would  have  resulted  columns 
and  reams  of  print  to  tell  about  the  inspiration,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it.  In  the  consciousness  of  these  Russians 
— and  make  no  mistake,  most  of  them  are  alert,  intel- 
lectually vigourous  people — there  was  no  concern  about 
their  own  value  as  figures  in  a  romance.  They  were 
filled  with  the  excitement  accompanying  the  possibility 
of  radically  improving  their  work. 

Spontaneously  the  pieces  of  the  new  structure  came 
together.  To  M.  Fokine  the  group  looked  as  head. 
In  him  they  had  a  choreographer  of  the  highest  order, 
with  the  imagination  of  an  epic  poet.     Nijinski  and 


248  THE  DANCE 

Bolm  were  prominent  men  of  the  group;  heading  the 
list  of  women  were  Miles.  Pavlowa,  Lopoukowa,  and 
Karsavina.  As  a  matter  of  exact  history,  Mr.  Joseph 
Mandelkern  points  out  to  us  that  the  enlistment  of 
Mordkin,  Volinine  and  other  important  recruits  oc- 
curred somewhat  later;  being  in  the  Moscow  arm  of 
the  school,  their  first  receipt  of  the  romantic  impulse 
was  connected  with  Miss  Duncan's  appearance  in  Mos- 
cow, which  occurred  after  the  St.  Petersburg  engage- 
ment. The  secession  at  Moscow  was  largely  a  repeti- 
tion of  the  occurrences  at  St.  Petersburg. 

The  new  cause  gained,  without  delay,  the  alliance 
of  the  musical  composers,  Glazounov,  Rimski-Korsakov. 
Tcherepnin,  and  others  of  stature  little  less. 

Among  the  forces  most  important  in  contribution 
to  the  new-born  art,  moreover,  was  Leon  Bakst,  the 
decorator.  M.  Bakst,  for  a  number  of  years,  had  en- 
joyed a  high  and  steadily  improving  position  in  his 
craft;  he  had  been  variously  honoured,  he  had  exe- 
cuted responsible  commissions  to  the  satisfaction  of 
every  one — with  the  possible  exception  of  himself.  In 
a  comparatively  recent  interview  he  is  quoted  as  saying 
— in  effect — ^that  he  believed  that  the  function  of  a 
painter  was  to  express  emotion  rather  than  to  record 
fact.  Taking  as  an  instance  an  architectural  sketch 
before  him,  he  said  that  if  a  change  of  certain  classic 
architectural  proportions  would  add  impressiveness,  he 
would  not  hesitate  to  make  the  necessary  changes.  In 
other  words,  he  regarded  fact  as  material  and  not  as 
an  object  to  be  recorded  for  its  own  sake.  So  it  may 
be  inferred  that  his  success  in  rather  conservative 
decoration,  notwithstanding  that  it  did  not  lack  the 
note  of  individuality,  was  not  satisfying  to  him. 


Photograph  by  Schnieder,  Berlin 

Mlle.  Pavlowa  in  an  "Arabesque' 


To  face  page  248 


MiKAIL   MORDKIN    IN   AN    "ArROW    DaNCE' 


To  face  page  149 


THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION    249 

For  material  for  new  compositions  in  which  the  new 
creed  could  be  exploited,  ballet-master,  musician  and 
painter  turned  unanimously  to  the  legendary  lore  of 
Russia  and  Persia,  the  intervening  land  of  the  Cau- 
casus, and  the  near-by  realm  of  Egypt.  Strange  new 
plots  they  found;  plots  of  savagery,  passion,  and  mys- 
tery. While  dancers  translated  lofty  motives  into 
choral  and  solo  steps,  musicians  worked  with  mad  zeal 
to  render  them  into  tone  and  tempo.  New  music  was 
composed,  old  was  seized  with  avid  hand  and  pounded 
into  its  appointed  place  in  the  new  romantic  structure. 
Bakst — and  other  painters  allied  with  him — revelled, 
now  in  a  deep  and  ominous  palette  that  should  spell 
mystery,  again  in  ardent  and  seemingly  impossible  har- 
monies that  sang  wild  opulence. 

In  short,  the  secessionists  had  attained  to  a  point  that 
marked  nothing  less,  and  something  more,  than  a  re- 
creation of  the  mimetic  drama  of  the  best  days  of 
Athens.  They  had  achieved  that  at  which  the  early 
patrons  of  opera  had  consciously  but  unsuccessfully 
aimed.  The  Russian  achievement  is  not  to  be  measured 
except  by  a  glance  back  into  history. 

In  the  great  spaces  of  the  Greek  outdoor  theatres, 
actors  found  their  voices  inadequate.  In  consequence, 
we  must  accept  as  essentially  true  the  belief  that  dra- 
matic representation  underwent  a  more  or  less  definite 
division  into  two  forms.  One  body,  complying  with  the 
world-old  demand  for  explanatory  statement  to  accom- 
pany dramatic  action,  adopted  a  device  to  magnify  the 
voice;  that  device  was  a  small  megaphone,  concealed  by 
means  of  a  mask.  To  the  unimaginative  audience,  the 
resulting  falsification  of  the  voice  was  not  objectionable. 
That  species  of  audience,  to  this  day,  is  deaf  and  blind 


250  THE  DANCE 

to  the  message  of  quality  or  to  delight  in  it.  Its  interest 
centres  on  narrative  and  it  welcomes  diagrammatic  aid 
to  its  understanding  of  that  narrative.  The  mask, 
therefore,  v^as  rather  satisfying  than  otherwise  to  the 
patrons  of  the  drama  that  it  typified.  In  labelling  char- 
acter, it  was  a  boon  to  the  intellectually  toothless;  to 
whom,  moreover,  its  immobility  of  expression  would  not 
be  offensive.  That  the  spoken  drama  was  the  popular 
form,  the  mimo-drama  the  aristocr9,t,  seems  an  unavoid- 
able inference. 

To  artists  and  audience  versed  in  the  language  of 
symbol,  as  opposed  to  imitation;  of  suggestion,  as  op- 
posed to  diagram ;  of  abstraction,  as  opposed  to  material 
fact — to  such  performers  and  connoisseurs  the  vastness 
of  stage  and  auditorium  presented  no  inconvenience 
whatever.  To  both  performer  and  auditor,  the  elo- 
quence of  pose,  step  and  gesture  was  sufficient.  Indeed, 
we  may  suppose  that  they  regarded  the  spoken  word  as 
limiting,  rather  than  amplifying,  the  meaning  of  the 
action  it  accompanied.  The  high-heeled  cothurnus  the 
pantomimist  avoided,  for  the  sake  of  perfect  freedom 
of  foot.  To  him  was  open  the  full  resource  of  facial 
expression,  posture  and  dance.  All  of  these  means,  in 
whole  or  in  part,  were  denied  the  wearer  of  mask  and 
cothurnus. 

Rome,  consistent  with  its  own  level  of  artistic  men- 
tality, chose  the  less  imaginative  of  the  Greek  forms. 
It  follows  that  Greek  popular  drama  is  identical  with 
the  so-called  classic  Roman  drama. 

When  the  originators  of  opera  set  themselves,  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  to  the  task  of  re-creating  a  classic 
form,  it  is  a  matter  of  record  that  they  turned  to  Rome 
for  their  model. 


THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION    251 

Thus,  in  availing  themselves  of  advances  in  the  arts 
of  music,  scenery  and  costume,  both  opera  and  ballet 
have  strayed  from  pure  classic  tradition.  And  there  is 
no  harm  in  that,  per  se.  But  a  point  to  be  most  strongly 
emphasised  is  this:  that  the  Russian  ballet  has  re-cre- 
ated, in  its  essence,  the  best  of  classic  drama. 

Employment  of  the  full  eloquence  of  step,  pose  and 
facial  expression,  without  the  restriction  that  the  spoken 
word  imposes  upon  meaning — that  is  the  paramount 
distinction  of  the  Russian  ballet's  dramatic  form. 
Hardly  second  in  importance  is  its  independence  of  elab- 
orate stage  mechanism  as  a  means  to  effects.  The  first 
opera  busied  itself  with  mechanical  contrivances  to  an 
extent  that  was  commented  upon — with  amusement — 
by  writers  in  its  time.  How  far  its  originators  were 
justified  in  believing  that  they  had  re-created  a  great 
classic  form  needs  no  further  comment.  That  the  Rus- 
sians, searching  for  the  great  fundamentals  of  art,  de- 
vised a  form  practically  coincidental  with  that  accepted 
by  the  best  intelligence  of  the  best  period  of  Athens,  is 
a  chapter  of  dramatic  history  whose  importance  is  not 
likely  to  be  exaggerated. 

We  left  the  secessionists,  on  an  earlier  page,  in  the 
position  of  having  defied  a  strong-handed  government. 
In  this  crisis,  M.  Sergius  Diagilew  enters  the  narrative, 
not  as  an  artist,  but  as  one  of  art's  indispensable  allies. 
He  it  was  who,  some  years  before,  had  arranged  the  ex- 
hibitions that  first  acquainted  western  Europe  and 
America  with  modern  Russian  painting.  When  the  rift 
occurred  in  the  Ballet  Academy,  M.  Diagilew,  by  virtue 
of  experience  and  sympathies,  was  the  one  man  to  per- 
form certain  needed  diplomatic  services  in  the  interest 
of  the  rebels.     Their  situation  lacked  little  of  being 


252  THE  DANCE 

politically  serious.  M.  Diagilew  performed  the  felici- 
tous miracle  of  turning  a  fault  into  a  virtue. 

To  proper  government  authorities  he  outlined  a  plan 
which  in  itself  deserves  a  place  in  diplomatic  history. 
"Contract-breakers  these  people  are,"  he  admitted, 
"and  on  a  par  with  deserters  from  the  army.  But  in- 
stead of  punishing  them,  I  have  another  suggestion. 

"They  have  created  a  new  and  great  art.  Their 
combined  work  represents  a  greater  expression  than 
any  living  man  has  seen,  perhaps  the  finest  thing  of  its 
kind  that  ever  has  existed  in  the  world. 

"Europe  respects  Russia  for  her  force,  not  for  her 
thought.  Its  common  belief  is  that  Russia  is  a  nation 
of  savages,  because  it  has  seen  no  purely  Russian  art 
that  it  would  call  great. 

"My  proposal  is  that  these  people  be  reinstated  in  the 
Opera  and  the  Academy,  that  they  be  granted  a  long 
leave  of  absence,  and  that  I  be  commissioned  to  arrange 
for  them  a  season  in  Paris,  as  an  exhibition  of  repre- 
sentative Russian  art,  sanctioned  by  the  Russian  gov- 
ernment." 

The  capital  necessary  for  a  full  equipment  of  cos- 
tumes and  scenery  was  provided  by  Baron  Ginsberg. 
And  there  followed  the  first  season  of  le  Ballet  Russe 
at  the  Chatelet  Theatre,  in  1905.  Paris,  like  every 
other  progressive  city  in  the  world,  was  surfeited  with 
plays  that  would  better  have  been  enclosed  between  the 
covers  of  books  on  law,  sociology  or  medicine.  Its  bal- 
let, though  fighting  valiantly  against  the  effect  that  time 
works  on  old  governments,  old  religions,  old  institu- 
tions, had  settled  into  the  ways  of  habit,  and  could  no 
longer  fire  the  mind  or  the  imagination.  As  to  all  that 
miscellany  of  "musical  comedies"  that,  with  their  con- 


Mlle.  Lydia  Lopoukowa,  M.  Mikail  Mordkin,  in  a  Bacchanal 


To  face  page  252 


Mli.e.  Lydia  Lopoukowa 


To  face  page  153 


THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION    253 

comitant  novelties,  were  wallowing  in  a  gaudy  slough 
of  despond  ten  years  ago,  Parisians  had  come  to  regard 
them  as  a  highly  improbable  means  even  of  amusement, 
leaving  edification  quite  out  of  account. 

The  success  of  the  Russians  was  assured  from  the 
first  curtain.  Here  was  something  that  conveyed  a 
message  of  noble  beauty,  executed  with  the  skill  of  the 
craftsman  possessed  of  all  that  education  can  give, 
fired  with  enthusiastic  genius.  Above  all,  it  was  a 
thing  that  released  thought  from  earth-bound  conditions 
and,  with  the  persuasion  of  its  multiple  beauty,  invited 
it  to  roam  the  unlimited  domain  of  poetry  and  magic. 

Full  appreciation  required  time,  naturally.  Here  was 
a  creation  new  in  freedom  of  movement  and  pantomimic 
vocabulary:  dressed  in  costumes  never  seen  before; 
backed  by  scenery  in  colours  never  dreamed  of,  with 
a  species  of  line-composition  like  an  alien  language; 
and  accompanied  by  music  of  a  type  unfamiliar,  to  many 
individuals  unknown.  Wagnerian  music  to  the  unac- 
customed ear  is  confusing  as  well  as  overpowering. 
The  Russian  ballet  presented  its  equivalent  in  three  dif- 
ferent forms  acting  simultaneously. 

The  Russian  ballet  season  is  now  one  of  the  institu- 
tions of  the  French  capital.  The  Russian  government 
annually  grants  several  months'  leave  of  absence  to  the 
necessary  number  of  artists,  and  Paris  for  several 
months  crowds  their  performances.  The  annual  in- 
crease in  quantity  and  depth  of  thought  bestowed  upon 
them,  as  measured  in  magazine  writings,  indicates  that 
public  satisfaction  with  the  organisation  and  its  work 
has  not  yet  found  its  limits. 

The  seasons  of  1909-10  and  1910-11  found  a  small  but 
admirable  Russian  ballet  in  the  Metropolitan  Opera  of 


254  THE  DANCE 

New  York.  Pavlowa,  Lopoukowa,  Mordkin,  Volinine 
and  Geltzer  were  of  the  number.  They  presented 
many  divertissements  in  opera  performances  as  well 
as  a  number  of  ballet  pantomimes.  As  to  their  im- 
pression on  the  public,  it  is  most  briefly  to  be  ex- 
pressed by  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  dancing 
enthusiasm  now  strongly  rooted  in  America  dates  di- 
rectly back  to  these  Russian  ballet  seasons  in  the  Metro- 
politan Opera.  Naturally,  the  public's  lack  of  knowl- 
edge of  the  language  of  pantomime  and  choreography 
stood  in  the  way  of  such  an  immediate  "hit"  as  the  same 
company  had  made  in  Paris.  But  in  spite  of  incom- 
plete understanding,  New  York  was  charmed  from  the 
first,  and  appreciation  grew  rapidly  through  the  two  sea- 
sons. 

The  contract  was  not  renewed,  nor  has  the  Metro- 
politan Opera  undertaken  anything  great  in  choreogra- 
phy since  that  time,  in  which  it  is  probably  right.  Not- 
withstanding the  popularity  of  the  Russians,  they  did 
not  increase  box-office  receipts  commensurately  with  the 
heavy  cost  of  salaries,  transportation  and  incidental  ex- 
penses. 

It  is  natural,  when  service  is  needed,  to  turn  to  those 
whose  fitness  for  such  service  has  been  proven.  But 
the  opera  company,  by  its  service  to  music,  has  earned 
exemption  from  added  responsibilities  to  art.  Since  its 
organisation,  the  stockholders'  dividends  have  had  the 
form  of  deficit  statements  every  year  until  two  years  ago. 
Every  year  the  stockholders  wrote  their  checks  to  ag- 
gregate a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars  or  more  that  opera 
cost  in  excess  of  its  receipts.  The  past  two  years  have 
turned  the  balance  into  the  other  column.  If  they  chose 
to,  the  same  set  of  gentlemen  could,  in  a  few  years,  put 


THE  ROMANTIC  REVOLUTION    255 

the  ballet-drama  on  the  same  footing;  but  the  sacrifice 
of  money  and  effort  is  more  than  the  public  has  a  right 
to  ask.  Against  appalling  odds,  the  Metropolitan  took 
up  the  cause  of  popularising  opera.  That  the  task 
proves  other  than  a  labour  of  love  is  due  neither  to 
skimping  nor  to  lowering  of  standards,  but  to  quite  the 
contrary  policy.  The  undertaking  has  succeeded ;  those 
connected  with  it  are  entitled  to  a  period  of  enjoyment 
of  their  rewards.  The  American  Academy  of  Dancing, 
when  it  is  organised,  is  not  morally  their  responsibility. 
For  its  own  good,  moreover,  it  had  best  be  an  independ- 
ent organisation,  with  music  definitely  relegated  to  the 
secondary  importance.  As  an  auxiliary  to  music,  the 
dance  has  not  progressed  as  it  should;  only  as  the  sole 
occupant  of  one  of  the  pedestals  to  which  the  great  arts 
are  entitled  will  it  receive  the  attentive  care  that  it  de- 
serves and  needs.  But  this  is  anticipation  of  the  matter 
of  another  chapter. 

Since  the  Metropolitan  engagement,  Russian  ballets 
have  seldom  been  seen  in  America  except  under  misrep- 
resentative  conditions.  Not  through  intentions  to  mis- 
represent, but  through  tactical  errors  easily  understood 
in  the  light  of  subsequent  knowledge,  they  have  been  too 
often  advertised  in  such  terms  as  to  prepare  their  audi- 
ences for  sensationalism  rather  than  art. 

A  company  including  some  of  the  best  dancers  that 
Russia  has  produced  was  headed  by  a  vaudeville  per- 
former whose  prominence  proceeded  from  genius  in  imi- 
tations, and  whose  choreographic  aspirations  were  based 
on  two  years  (the  programme  confessed  the  period)  of 
ballet  study.  It  was  believed  that  her  name  would  be  of 
service  to  the  box-office;  it  was  demonstrated  that,  by 
the  standards  of  the  supporting  company,  she  was  not 


256  THE  DANCE 

a  dancer.  So  she  did  not  dance.  Obviously,  the  func- 
tion of  subordinates  is  to  be  subordinate;  so,  perforce, 
they  did  not  dance,  either.  People  who  came  expecting 
to  see  great  things  inevitably  felt  that  the  Russian  ballet 
was,  to  say  the  least,  an  overrated  institution.  A  con- 
sequence even  more  unfortunate  is  that  many  managers 
draw,  from  this  hapless  alliance  and  its  consequences, 
the  deduction  that  Americans  do  not  like  high-class 
dancing. 


Mme.  Pavlowa  in  a  Bacchanal 


To  face  page  Z57 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  RUSSIAN   ACADEMY  AND   ITS  WORKINGS 

A  STUDENT  in  the  Russian  Academy  does  not 
risk  discovering,  after  some  years  of  study,  that 
he  cannot  stand  the  physical  training",  nor  does 
he  learn,  when  it  is  too  late  to  turn  back,  that  his  road 
to  high  places  is  blocked  by  defect  of  health,  structure, 
or  proportion.  As  a  candidate  for  admission  he  under- 
goes an  examination  by  a  board  of  physicians,  painters 
and  sculptors.  If  he  enters,  it  is  after  their  approval, 
the  examiners  measuring  the  candidate  by  the  standards 
of  their  respective  arts.  He  knows,  and  his  parents 
know,  that  he  is  starting,  free  from  handicap,  on  the 
road  to  an  at  least  respectable  position  in  a  respectable 
profession,  with  which  he  will  be  associated  and  by  which 
he  will  be  supported  through  life.  His  studies  will  be 
guided  by  the  best  instruction  that  can  be  secured;  if 
he  has  genius  it  will  receive  the  most  favourable  of  cul- 
tivati6n.  At  all  times  his  life  will  be  surrounded  by 
conditions  as  favourable  to  physical  health  as  they  can 
be  made  by  science  and  free  expenditure. 

His  payment  for  these  advantages  is  complete  renun- 
ciation of  every  interest  apart  from  those  of  the  Acad- 
emy's curriculum.  To  one  not  passionately  fond  of  his 
art,  the  enforced  devotion  to  work  would  spell  loss  of 
liberty.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  this  does  not 
often  seem  to  be  felt  as  a  privation.  The  interests  of 
the  school  are  so  varied,  and  the  dance  is  possessed  of 

2S7 


258  THE  DANCE 

such  endless  allurement,  that  life  within  the  academic 
walls  is  generally  felt  to  be  complete  in  itself.  In  other 
words,  the  contract  binding  the  pupil  is  not  usually  felt 
as  a  tether,  notwithstanding  that  its  operation  covers 
the  most  restless  years  in  a  boy's  or  girl's  life. 

Seven  or  eight  is  the  age  for  entrance,  and  the  con- 
tract binds  the  pupil  for  nine  years  of  training — which 
may  be  reduced  to  eight  if  proficiency  warrants.  At  the 
expiration  of  this  time  the  government  has  all  rights  to 
the  dancer's  services,  at  a  moderate  salary,  varying  ac- 
cording to  the  rank  for  which  he  qualifies  in  the  ballet 
organisation.  From  the  graduates  of  the  Academy  are 
recruited  the  ballets  of  the  two  Imperial  Opera  Houses : 
the  Marianski  Theatre  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  the  Opera 
House  in  Moscow.  In  both  houses,  ballet  pantomimes 
are  presented  twice  a  week,  approximately. 

Graduates  with  an  aptitude  for  teaching  are  so 
employed.  All  of  which  must  cost  the  government  a 
great  deal  less  than  would  the  alternative  of  hiring  corps 
de  ballet,  premiers  and  premieres,  and  ballet-masters 
from  Paris  and  Milan.  In  fact,  until  half  a  century 
ago,  foreign  talent  was  depended  on  for  the  important 
work.  From  its  continued  use,  it  may  be  inferred  that 
the  present  system  is  the  more  satisfactory. 

Naturally,  a  member  of  the  Imperial  ballet  must  have 
government  consent  to  leave  his  country ;  departing  with- 
out such  consent,  he  automatically  forfeits  his  pension. 
A  few  individuals  have  chosen  the  high  salaries  to  which 
their  work  entitles  them  in  other  parts  of  the  world,  and 
deliberately  stayed  away  at  the  expiration  of  a  leave  of 
absence.  To  the  great  majority,  however,  the  pension 
and  artistic  conditions  attaching  to  their  home  organisa- 
tion have  been  the  greater  inducement. 


Mlle.  Lydia  Lopoukowa 


To  face  page  159 


THE  RUSSIAN  ACADEMY         259 

Between  performances  and  their  preparation,  and 
teaching,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  members  of  the  ballet 
never  need  pass  an  unoccupied  hour.  They  are  insured 
against  such  deterioration  as  might  result  from  lack  of 
constant  work.  On  the  other  hand,  they  are  protected 
against  the  danger  of  overwork.  Think  of  the  differ- 
ence between  such  conditions  and  those  created  by  com- 
petition! Between  engagements,  the  generality  of  bal- 
let people  under  the  latter  conditions  study  and  train, 
if  at  all,  at  their  own  expense;  and  competent  coaching 
costs  money.  During  engagements,  the  number  of  su- 
preme efforts  of  which  they  are  capable  each  week  is 
considered  only  by  those  in  whom  are  combined  good 
fortune  and  conscience;  others  arrange  their  work  to 
economise  strength,  or  else  break  down. 

Of  the  curriculum  of  the  school  we  have  been  told  in 
some  detail  by  Miss  Lydia  Lopoukowa.  During  the 
first  year,  which  is  a  period  of  probation,  pupils  are  al- 
lowed to  visit  their  parents  on  Sundays.  After  that 
they  remain  in  the  direct  charge  of  instructors,  in  the 
school,  in  the  opera-houses,  and  in  carriages  going  and 
coming;  visiting  with  parents  or  others  is  confined  to 
stated  times,  and  is  done  in  the  school.  If  this  arrange- 
ment seems  severe,  the  answers  are  to  be  found  in  re- 
sults :  if  any  students  of  any  art  attain  to  full  artistic  de- 
velopment and  perfection  of  artistry  in  an  equal  length 
of  time  without  similar  concentration,  enforced  either  by 
self  or  by  regulation,  then  the  detachment  effected  by 
the  Russian  Academy  is  carried  to  an  unnecessary  de- 
gree. 

The  curriculum  may,  for  convenience,  be  divided  into 
two  departments,  pertaining  respectively  to  technical  and 
general  education.     The  latter  is  the  equivalent  of  the 


26o  THE  DANCE 

Continental  European  gymnasium,  which  carries  the  stu- 
dent to  a  point  somewhat  more  advanced  than  that  which 
he  reaches  in  the  American  public  high  school. 

On  the  technical  side,  the  training  begins  with  the 
breadth  of  a  general  conservatory's  course  in  the  arts. 
As  the  pupil's  aptitude  and  tastes  begin  to  crystallise, 
his  instruction  becomes  increasingly  specialised.  The 
first  year's  work  covers,  besides  dancing,  a  beginning  in 
music,  acting,  and  a  certain  amount  of  drawing.  The 
music  includes  theory  and  piano.  Acting  embraces  the 
beginnings  of  pantomime,  along  with  enunciation,  ex- 
pression and  the  rest  of  it. 

The  dancing  tuition  is  based  absolutely  on  the  French- 
Italian  ballet.  The  undisputed  success  of  the  romantic 
movement,  and  the  prevailing  sympathy  with  its  motive, 
have  not  shaken  faith  in  the  classic  as  a  necessary 
framework  for  the  support  of  expression  and  adornment. 
An  orthodox  and  unreconstructed  Italian  ballet-master 
remains  in  charge  of  this  department;  his  influence  is 
not  modified  until  after  the  pupil  has  acquired  the  equi- 
librium, in  short  the  discipline  that  is  a  tradition  of  the 
classic  school  alone.  Parallel  with  this  training,  how- 
ever, is  instruction  and  drill  in  plastic  gymnastics,  which 
concerns  itself  with  training  the  body  in  grace  and  ex- 
pression. The  separation  of  the  two  courses  naturally 
enables  the  pupil  to  keep  classic  precision  clear  in  his 
mind ;  while,  having  at  the  same  time  mastered  the  more 
fluid  treatment  of  the  plastic  gymnastics,  he  is  ready  to 
unite  the  two  understandingly  when  the  proper  time  ar- 
rives, and  to  combine  with  their  graces  the  eloquence  of 
pantomime. 

Music  has  sometimes  been  found  to  be  the  natural 
metier  of  students  whose  original  intention  was  dancing. 


THE  RUSSIAN  ACADEMY         261 

In  other  instances  the  embryonic  dancer  has  revealed  a 
genius  for  acting.  In  such  cases  the  pupil  is  encouraged 
to  follow  the  line  of  natural  aptitude.  The  ranks  of  both 
opera  and  drama  in  Russia  include  women  whose  ulti- 
mate vocations  were  discovered  after  they  had  become 
proficient  dancers.  While  such  cases  are  not  common, 
neither  are  they  rare;  which  is  rather  illuminating  as 
to  the  quality  of  the  musical  instruction. 

An  acquaintance  with  musical  theory  is  insisted  upon 
as  a  part  of  the  dancer's  equipment,  though  there  be  no 
probability  of  his  ever  applying  his  knowledge  in  any  of 
the  usual  ways.  Music  and  dancing  are  so  interwoven 
that  the  latter's  full  meaning  can  hardly  be  expressed, 
or  understood,  without  musical  knowledge  as  an  aid. 
Moreover,  of  every  class  of  youngsters  a  certain  num- 
ber are  destined  to  be  choreographic  composers ;  to  these 
a  knowledge  of  orchestral  possibilities  and  limitations  is 
indispensable.  Indeed  it  is  an  asset  of  the  utmost  prac- 
tical utility  to  any  dancer;  any  rehearsal  demonstrates 
its  value.  In  respect  to  this  department  and  its  lifelong 
value  to  those  who  have  had  its  training,  graduates  of 
other  academies  unite  in  approval  of  the  Russian. 

The  course  in  drawing  and  painting  seems  to  aim  at 
critical  appreciation  of  beauty,  as  expressed  in  the  ab- 
stract qualities  of  grace  in  line  and  harmony  in  colour; 
this  in  distinction  to  the  regulation  art  school  discipline 
in  proportion  and  anatomy  of  the  figure.  The  practical 
value  of  such  training,  in  sharpening  the  power  of  con- 
structive criticism  of  dancing,  is  obvious. 

To  the  accomplishment  of  all  this  work — and  more 
that  need  not  be  detailed — the  pupils  are  not  driven; 
they  are  led.  Everything  is  fun.  Play  is  made  con- 
tributory to  the  general  purpose  of  training  artists.     As 


262  THE  DANCE 

an  escape  from  realities  into  that  world  of  make-believe 
that  children  crave,  pantomimes  are  practiced  evenings 
after  dinner;  self-expression  is  encouraged  on  these  oc- 
casions, criticism  no  more  than  hinted.  As  a  play- 
ground for  the  girls,  a  large  garden  is  provided.  But 
the  boys,  to  relax  from  the  restraint  of  a  daily  two-hour 
lesson  in  French  ballet,  delight  in  class  fencing  lessons. 
The  health  of  all  is  under  unobtrusive  but  constant  su- 
pervision. In  each  of  the  girls'  dormitories  a  nurse  is 
'on  watch  every  night,  alert  for  the  first  unfavourable 
symptom — and  ready,  too,  we  may  be  sure,  with  sym- 
pathy for  any  little  attack  of  loneliness.  Miss  Lopou- 
kowa's  remembrances  are  not  of  any  rigours  of  work, 
but  rather  of  a  protecting  gentleness. 

Diet  is  studied ;  the  children  are  trained  into  hygienic 
positions  in  sleep!  Hair,  teeth,  skin,  heart,  lungs,  di- 
gestion and  nerves  are  cared  for  by  the  most  capable  of 
specialists.  By  no  means  last  in  importance  to  a  dancer 
are  his  feet;  the  Academy  has  its  chiropodist  always  in 
attendance  not  only  to  rectify  trouble,  but  to  prevent  it. 

As  the  academic  years  draw  toward  their  close,  the 
pupil  receives  instruction  in  supplementary  branches 
necessary  to  the  finished  artist.  Character  dances  are 
not  only  performed;  they  are  studied  in  relation  to  the 
temperaments  of  their  respective  nations.  Make-up  re- 
ceives its  due  attention ;  with  paint  and  false  hair  young 
Russians  practice  transforming  themselves  into  Japa- 
nese, Egyptians,  Italians.  When  they  leave  the  Acad- 
emy, they  know  their  trade. 

Somehow  such  an  institution  seems  too  good  to  last; 
yet  its  excellence  is  far  from  being  the  product  of  any 
momentary  enthusiasm.  Its  beginning  was  made  in  the 
first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century.     Ballets  had  been 


Mlle.  Lydia  Lopoukowa  in  "Le  Lac  Des  Cygnes" 


To  face  page  z62 


THE  RUSSIAN  ACADEMY  263 

presented  before  the  Imperial  Court  as  early  as  1675. 
Peter  the  Great  had  insisted  on  Western  dancing  as  one 
of  the  means  to  his  end  of  bringing  Russia  abreast  of 
the  times.  Indeed  he  is  supposed  to  have  learned  it  and 
taught  it  himself,  as  he  did  shipbuilding.  In  1735  the 
Empress  Anne  engaged  a  Neapolitan  composer  and  mu- 
sical director  and  a  French  ballet-master,  and  bade  them 
present  a  ballet  every  v^eek.  Cadets  from  the  military 
academy  were  at  first  impressed  into  service ;  which  may 
be  contributory  to  the  military  exactness  of  the  organ- 
isation of  the  Ballet  Academy. 

As  ballet  material,  the  cadets  were  gradually  (accord- 
ing to  Flitch)  replaced  by  boys  and  girls  of  the  poorer 
classes,  whom  the  ballet-master  trained  free  of  charge. 
The  assignment  of  quarters  to  them  in  the  palace,  the 
appointment  of  a  coachman's  widow  to  take  care  of  them, 
an  appropriation  of  extra  pay  to  the  ballet-master  for 
teaching,  may  be  said  to  mark  the  beginnings  of  the 
Academy.  Its  existence  has  been  uninterrupted,  and, 
under  the  almost  idolatrous  Russian  love  of  ballet  rep- 
resentations, its  growth  has  been  steady.  A  composite 
French-Italian  technique  was  adopted,  as  before  stated, 
and  kept  unmodified  until  the  recent  romantic  move- 
ment had  proven  its  worth.  Italian  principal  dancers 
were  employed  until,  a  generation  ago,  the  need  of  them 
was  ended  by  the  Imperial  Academy's  arrival  at  a  condi- 
tion of  adequacy. 

The  difiference  between  the  romantic  ballet  and  the 
classic  could  not  be  described  in  an  infinity  of  words, 
but  it  can  be  summarised  in  a  few,  and  its  character  sug- 
gested in  a  few  sketches.  Briefly,  the  difference  consists 
in  liberty  to  depart  from  classic  restriction  of  pose  and 
movement,  wherever  such  emancipation  will  contribute 


264  THE  DANCE 

to  expression.  This  freedom  inevitably  dashes  with 
ballet  tenets  that  have  been  unquestioned  for  a  hundred 
and  fifty  years.  The  classic  keeps  the  shoulders  down ; 
the  romantic  does  not  hesitate  to  raise  them,  one  or 
both,  to  portray  fear,  disdain,  or  what-not.  In  the  eyes 
of  the  classicists,  straightness  of  body  (its  detractors 
call  it  rigidity)  is  of  absolute  importance;  romanticists, 
in  their  Oriental  representations,  for  instance,  do  not 
hesitate  to  exploit  the  body's  sinuosity  to  the  utmost. 
Yet,  in  their  apparent  disregard  of  choreographic  law, 
they  have  preserved  rigourously  the  underlying  truth  of 
choreographic  structure.  Than  their  brilliant  steps  those 
of  no  dancer  are  cleaner  or  more  perfect ;  in  equilibrium, 
in  exactness,  in  all  that  makes  for  style  and  finish,  they 
have  no  superiors.  Nevertheless  some  of  the  classic 
ballet  people,  especially  the  Milan  element,  still  protest 
that  the  romantic  idea,  with  all  its  appurtenances,  is  a 
heresy.  M.  Legatt,  of  the  St.  Petersburg  Academy,  is 
said  to  group  all  the  new  elements  into  one  category: 
Duncanism ! 

As  the  painter  Bakst  (and  with  him  may  be  mentioned 
Boris  Anisfeldt  and  others  of  the  same  artistic  creed), 
while  preserving  recognisable  national  character  in  his 
scenes  and  costumes,  does  not  scruple  to  subordinate  his- 
torical facts  to  his  motives,  so  does  the  romantic  ballet- 
master  disregard  the  natural  limitations  of  folk-dances 
that  he  may  choose  to  employ  in  his  composition.  If 
it  suited  the  dramatic  intention  of  M.  Fokine  to  bring 
an  Arabian  dancer  on  to  the  point,  or  to  introduce  into 
her  work  a  pure  pirouette,  it  is  fairly  safe  to  assume 
that  he  would  do  so,  despite  the  fact  that  Arabic  dan- 
cing itself  knows  no  such  devices.  It  is  to  be  added 
that  although  he  should  make  such  amendment  to  an 


THE  RUSSIAN  ACADEMY 


^«.  a^^^oi^''  ^i^a 


Representative  Russian  Ballet  Poses  and  Groups. 
Two  groups  at  top  from  Thamar,  M.  Bolm  and  Mme.  Karsavina,  Mile. 
Nijinska;    MM.    Govriloflf   and    Kotchetovski ;    M.    Seilig   and    Mile. 
Stachko,  all  in  Thamar.    Figure  with  peacock,  Mme.  Astafieva  in  Le 
Dieu  Bleu. 

(Courtesy  of  Comoedia  Illustre.) 


266  THE  DANCE 

Arabic  dance  as  known  to  its  own  people,  his  product 
would  express  as  forcibly  the  quality  of  Orientalism  as 
would  any  dance  to  be  found  in  Bagdad.  The  essential 
difference  would  be  that  the  composition  of  M.  Fokine 
would  serve  the  immediate  intention  of  grief,  rage,  or 
whatever  might  be  the  desired  emotion,  as  well  as  em- 
phasising Oriental  quality. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  means  of  expression  above  in- 
dicated relieves  the  ballet  pantomime  of  any  limits  of 
scope.  The  classic,  generally  speaking,  is  by  its  nature 
confined  to  fairy  fantasies,  the  play  of  elves  and  spirits, 
Pierrot  and  Columbine.  All  that  is  dainty  it  renders  to 
perfection.  The  new  school,  on  the  contrary,  can  treat 
with  complete  dramatic  impressiveness  all  the  mystic, 
epic  ^nd  sometimes  terrible  imaginings  of  the  Tartar 
mind.  To  its  advantage  it  has  among  its  disciples  a  full 
supply  of  dancing  men;  lack  of  them  has  crippled  the 
classic  expressions  for  many  years.  The  woman  doing 
a  boy's  part  becomes  ridiculous  as  soon  as  dramatic 
action  departs  from  the  lyrical  mood.  For  this  reason, 
perhaps,  both  opera  ballets  and  academies  of  Europe 
outside  of  Russia  have  long  lost  the  custom  of  staging 
pantomimes  of  greater  consequence  than  operatic  di- 
vertissement. Whereas  the  Marianski  Theatre  and  the 
Moscow  Opera  dedicate  two  nights  a  week  to  ballet  pan- 
tomimes exclusively,  and  have  done  so  for  many  years. 

The  mimetic  dramas  that  have  sprung  into  life  with 
and  as  part  of  the  new  school  draw  material  from  leg- 
ends dark  and  savage,  lyrical  and  dreamlike.  Cleo- 
patre  is  a  story  of  love  and  a  cruel  caprice  of  an  idle 
queen  of  fabled  Egypt.  Prince  Igor  presents  a  back- 
ground of  the  ever-threatening  Mongol,  a  myriad  sav- 
age horde  encamped  outside  the  eastern  gate  of  Europe. 


THE  RUSSIAN  ACADEMY 


267 


^•^a- 
Q71.SAA) 


Representative  Russian  Ballet  Poses  and  Groups, 
Prince  Igor  (M.  Bolm).     Thamar  (Mile.  Tchernicheva) . 
L'Oiseau  de  Feu  (Mme.  Karsavina).    Thamar  (Mile.  Hoklova). 
L'Oiseau  de  Feu   (M.  Boulgakow,  M.  Fokine). 

Le  Dieu  Bleu   (M.  Nijinski). 
(Courtesy  of  Comoedia  Illustre.) 


268  THE  DANCE 

Scheherazade  is  tropic  passion  marching  undeviatingly 
into  tragedy.  In  contrast  to  these  ^re  such  ethereal 
creations  as  Le  Spectre  de  la  Rose,  Le  Carnaval,  Les 
Sylphides,  Le  Lac  des  Cygnes,  and  Le  Pavilion  d'Ar- 
mide.  Le  Spectre  de  la  Rose,  composed  to  the  melting 
music  of  Weber's  Invitation  a  la  Valse,  is  a  fantasy  of 
a  girl  who  falls  asleep  in  her  chair  after  returning  from 
a  ball.  In  her  hand  she  holds  a  rose  which,  in  her 
dreams,  turns  into  a  spirit  that  dances  with  her,  kisses 
her,  and  departs.  Le  Carnaval  brings  to  life  and  unites 
in  a  slight  plot  a  group  of  such  fabled  personages  as 
Pierrot,  Harlequin,  Columbine,  Pantalone  and  Papillon, 
animated  by  Schumann  music  with  Russian  orchestra- 
tion. Armide  is  a  figure  on  a  tapestry,  who,  by  magic 
spell,  comes  forth  in  courtly  dance  with  her  companion 
figures  and  enchants  a  traveller  sleeping  in  the  apart- 
ment. Le  Lac  des  Cygnes  and  Les  Sylphides  are  prac- 
tically plotless  reveries  in  the  field  of  pure  beauty;  of 
tissue  as  unsubstantial  as  the  rainbow. 

Still  a  third  division  is  exemplified  in  UOiseau  de 
Feu  and  Le  Dieu  Bleu.  As  though  to  test  to  the  utmost 
the  romantic  ballet's  range  of  expression,  these  last 
deal  with  occult  Eastern  religion,  calling  for  a  treatment 
purely  mystic. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY 

THE  present  vogue  of  dancing  is  sometimes  charac- 
terised as  a  fad.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  no 
more  than  the  resumption  of  a  normal  exercise. 
It  is  not  extraordinary  that  people  should  wish  to  dance 
every  day.  It  was  extraordinary  that  there  should 
have  been  a  period  of  sixty  years  in  which  people  did  not 
wish  to  dance  every  day.  Occidental  history  recalls  few 
periods  when  the  dance,  natural  as  speech  and  exalting 
as  music,  underwent  such  neglect  as  it  suffered  during 
the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Self-expres- 
sion was  in  bad  taste.  A  phantasm  of  misinterpreted 
respectability  standardised  conduct.  The  resulting  cau- 
tion of  movement  sterilised  the  dance,  and  sterility  all 
but  killed  it. 

As  that  which  might  conveniently  be  called  the  Renais- 
sance of  Individuality  began  to  be  felt,  within  the  past 
few  years,  the  endless  iteration  of  one  step  in  each 
dance  became  inadequate  to  interpret  feelings.  People 
learned  that  their  own  ideas  were  worth  at  least  a  trial ; 
forms  fell  automatically.  But,  no  one  being  at  hand  to 
show  how  dancing  might  be  made  an  expression,  people 
turned  to  other  recreations. 

Then  came  the  Russian  ballet.  It  showed  that  dan- 
cing, more  completely  perhaps  than  any  other  action 
within  mortal  scope,  is  a  means  of  expression  of  every 

emotion  humanity  may  feel.     It  showed,  too,  how  incon- 

269 


270  THE  DANCE 

ceivably  beautiful  may  be  the  human  body  when  it  is 
made  to  conform  to  the  laws  of  beauty — which  are  iden- 
tical with  the  laws  of  choreography.  And  so  perfect  was 
the  artistry  of  these  demigods  from  out  of  the  North 
that  "difficulty"  became  a  forgotten  word.  Every  man 
thought  that  he  felt  within  himself  at  least  a  portion  of 
the  essence  that  animated  Volinine,  Mordkin,  Nijinski; 
every  woman  knew  she  had  latent  some  of  the  magic  of 
Pavlowa,  Lopoukowa,  or  Karsavina.  And  they  were 
right.  Every  normal  human  is  in  greater  or  less  degree 
an  artist. 

Sudden  reactions  are  usually  attended  by  more  vio- 
lence than  discrimination.  The  appetite  for  sheer  quan- 
tity is  satisfied  before  the  need  of  restraint  is  felt.  So 
with  the  new  dancing  that  gratified  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  feet  suddenly  freed  from  conventional  weights 
on  their  movements.  The  Turkey  Trot  (name  to  delight 
posterity)  raced  eastward  from  San  Francisco  in  a  form 
to  which  the  word  "dancing"  could  be  applied  only  by 
exercise  of  courtesy.  Literally,  caricaturists  could  not 
caricature  it;  it  made  caricatures  of  its  devotees.  But 
they  were  not  concerned  with  that.  ,  They  were  in  the 
exaltation  of  rediscovery ;  they  were  happily,  beneficially 
mad  with  varied  rhythm,  marked  by  free  movements  of 
their  own  bodies.  The  "trot"  was  easily  learned;  the 
problem  became  one  of  finding  space  in  which  to  dance  it, 
so  quickly  did  its  performers  fill  every  floor  within  hear- 
ing-distance of  a  piano. 

The  cynical  inference  that  morals  or  their  lack  bore 
any  relation  to  the  phenomenon  of  this  dance's  rapid 
spread,  is  beside  the  point.  Of  the  original  "trot"  noth- 
ing remains  but  the  basic  step.  The  elements  that  drew 
denunciation  upon  it  have  gone  from  the  abiding-places 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     271 

of  politeness;  yet  its  gains  in  popularity  continue  un- 
checked. As  though  to  emphasise  its  superiority  to 
former  mannerisms,  it  is  just  now  urbanely  changing  its 
name :  it  prefers  to  be  known  as  the  One-Step.  And  in 
the  desire  for  a  new  appellation  it  is  justified,  since  no 
history  ever  so  vividly  recalled  the  fable  of  the  ugly 
duckling.  The  hypothetical  turkey  whose  trot  it  once 
portrayed  proves,  as  it  matures,  to  be  a  creature  closely 
resembling  a  peacock.  The  peacock  it  was  whose  des- 
ignation (Spanish  pavo)  furnished  the  name  of  the  old 
Pavane;  and  the  One-Step,  moved  by  some  force  more 
potent  than  coincidence,  is  now  tending  strongly  toward 
the  form  of  that  favourite  of  seventeenth-century  courts. 

With  the  Turkey  Trot  came  out  of  the  West  the 
Bunny  Hug,  the  Grizzly  Bear,  and  perchance  the  bear- 
ers of  other  names  reminiscent  of  the  zoo.  They 
treated  Europe  to  a  mixture  of  amusement  and  irrita- 
tion, but  were  not  destined  to  long  life  on  either  side  of 
the  Atlantic. 

While  North  America  turkey-trotted,  the  Argentine 
Tango  was  delighting  and  scandalising  Paris.  A  dance 
of  curious  history,  the  Tango.  Certain  details  of  its 
execution  justify  the  assignment  of  its  remote  origin 
to  the  Gipsies  of  Spain.  Argentina  is  an  attractive 
market  for  Spanish  dancing;  undoubtedly  the  original 
Tango,  composed  of  Gipsy  steps  and  movements,  was 
shown  in  Argentina  soon  after  its  first  exploitation  in 
Spain,  some  forty  years  ago.  To  change  it  from  a  solo 
for  a  woman  into  a  dance  for  couples  needed  only  re- 
arrangement, plus  modification  of  movements  that  might 
not  be  considered  respectable.  The  latter  being  a  purely 
relative  term,  disagreements  followed  the  dance's  ap- 
pearance in  Paris — Argentinian  synonym  for  Paradise. 


272  THE  DANCE 

It  is  to  Paris  that  the  prosperous  Argentinos  go  for  re- 
freshment; and  there  they  introduced  their  form  of  the 
Tango.  Robert,  a  popular  Parisian  teacher  of  social 
dancing,  arranged  a  version  of  it  to  conform  to  con- 
servative standards,  and  its  spread  followed. 

The  Boston  Walts  (the  latter  word  is  generally  omit- 
ted), born  in  the  period  when  Sousa's  marches  and  two- 
steps  were  omnipresent,  existed  as  little  more  than  a 
theory  until,  with  the  advent  of  the  new  dances,  it  was 
found  to  be  in  tune  with  the  times.  With  the  Tango  and 
One-Step  it  has  come  into  a  family  relationship,  now 
borrowing  from  them  for  its  own  embellishment,  again 
lending  them  a  step  for  the  good  of  their  variety.  Add 
to  these  the  Brazilian  Maxixe  and  the  Hesitation 
Waltz,  and  we  complete  the  list  of  dances  which,  at  the 
moment  of  writing,  animate  social  gatherings  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic ;  inspire  restaurant-keepers  to  pro- 
vide dancing  floors,  hotel  managers  to  give  thes  dan- 
sants,  with  periodical  competitions,  and  instruction  if 
desired ;  the  dances  that  are  successfully  demanding  for 
themselves  a  new  and  unobjectionable  species  of  dance- 
hall,  and  causing  grave  scientists  to  debate  over  them 
as  symptoms — with  profound  allusions  to  the  so-called 
"dancing  mania"  of  an  earlier  century.  The  extent  of 
the  vogue  needs  neither  record  nor  comment  in  this 
place.  That  which  has  not  been  duly  noted  in  the  peri- 
odical press  is  the  fact  that  a  fashion  of  rhythmic  exer- 
cise is  proving  to  be  a  well-spring  of  good  spirits  and  a 
fountain  of  youth  for  millions  of  men  and  women. 
Every  one  benefits  by  it.  None  discontinue  it.  The 
only  people  not  seeking  new  steps  for  their  repertoire  are 
those  who  have  not  yet  found  time  to  make  a  beginning, 
or  who  have  been  dismayed  by  the  forbidding  number  of 


The  "Waltz  Minuet" 
Mr.  John  Murray  Anderson,  Miss  Genevieve  Lyon 

Characteristic  style  (i)  —  Variation,   position  of  hands  (2)  —  Preparation  for  a 
turn  (3)  —  The  mirror  figure 


To  face  page  272 


H 


--    < 


O      " 


U 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     273 

new  names,  both  of  steps  and  of  dances.  For  their  bene- 
fit, it  is  in  order  to  make  a  digression  at  this  point. 

Let  it  be  emphatically  understood  that  the  dances 
above  enumerated  are  the  only  ones  that  have  any  pres- 
ent significance  in  French,  English  or  American  ball- 
rooms. So-called  "new"  dances,  bearing  names  of  sum- 
mer and  winter  resorts,  heroines  and  what-not,  are  pre- 
sented in  endless  succession;  but  analysis  always  shows 
their  almost  complete  lack  of  individuality.  Their  claim 
to  recognition  regularly  consists  of  a  minor  variation  of 
a  familiar  bit  of  one  of  the  Waltzes,  the  Tango,  or  the 
One-Step.  Around  this  nucleus  are  gathered  steps 
taken  from  the  other  dances  directly ;  and  the  "composi- 
tion" is  supposed  to  contribute  publicity  to  some  pro- 
gressive teacher  or  performer.  At  the  present  moment 
a  "Spanish"  something-or-other  is  claiming  attention, 
on  grounds  which,  examined  closely,  consist  in  a  draw- 
ing of  one  foot  up  to  the  other,  with  a  slight  accompany- 
ing body  movement.  Spanish  dancing  does  use  this 
movement,  it  is  true.  So  does  the  One-Step;  the  Tur- 
key Trot  had  it  on  its  birthday.  Examples  of  such  ef- 
forts might  be  multiplied,  but  one  is  sufficient  to  show 
the  needlessness  of  concern  over  strange  and  unproved 
titles. 

The  steps  and  figures  hereinafter  described  are  stand- 
ard. The  list  cannot  be  complete,  since  the  Tango  alone 
has  figures  to  a  number  variously  estimated  at  from 
about  fifty  to  more  than  a  hundred;  nor  is  it  desirable 
that  it  should  be.  Many  of  those  figures  are  wholly 
alien  to  the  true  Tango  character,  contribute  nothing 
of  beauty  or  interest,  and  might  well  be  allowed  to  perish. 
Others  are  of  such  slight  variation  from  basic  forms 
that  they  can  be  learned  in  a  moment  by  any  one  familiar 


274  THE  DANCE 

with  the  principles.  Embellishments  are  easily  added, 
once  the  structure  is  solidly  built. 

The  instruction  that  follows  was  prepared  under  the 
careful  supervision  of  a  teacher  whose  good  taste  is  un- 
questionable and  whose  broad  familiarity  with  dan- 
cing in  all  its  aspects  qualifies  him  to  foresee  and  esti- 
mate tendencies  with  extraordinary  precision:  Mr. 
John  Murray  Anderson,  previously  introduced  in  these 
pages  in  connection  with  the  old  court  dances.  The 
photographs  illustrating  the  text  were  made  from  the 
work  of  Mr.  Anderson  with  his  partner.  Miss  Genevieve 
Lyon;  collective  possessors  of  a  favourable  and  grow- 
ing popularity  as  performers.  These  photographs  may 
be  studied  with  full  reliance  upon  their  value  as  guides 
to  the  style  of  each  of  the  dances  described. 

To  the  beginner,  the  diagrams  and  text  will  serve  as  a 
grammar,  by  whose  guidance  the  steps  can  be  put  into 
practice.  Familiarity  will  accustom  the  limbs  and  body 
to  the  mechanism  of  the  steps,  and  the  mirror  will  go  far 
in  revealing  the  faults  inseparable  from  any  new  under- 
taking that  requires  skill.  At  that  point  the  photo- 
graphs have  their  special  value. 

As  soon  as  the  student  is  reasonably  conversant  with 
his  grammar,  he  should  begin  to  avail  himself  of  oppor- 
tunities to  put  his  knowledge  to  practical  use.  Also,  if 
he  wishes  to  dance  with  distinguished  grace  and  style,  he 
should  put  himself  for  a  term  under  the  eye  of  a  capable 
teacher.  Ambitious  professional  performers,  possessed 
of  the  knowledge  and  skill  derived  from  years  of  concen- 
trated study  of  their  art,  periodically  submit  themselves 
to  rigourous  coaching.  The  amateur,  though  measured 
by  much  less  exacting  standards,  has  commensurately 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     275 

less  preliminary  training  on  which  he  may  depend  to  give 
him  the  qualities  that  make  for  graceful  execution.  No 
dancer  can  see  his  own  work  truly.  All  need  at  least  the 
occasional  oversight  of  a  skilled  eye ;  and  a  teacher's  ex- 
perience in  detecting  the  causes  of  imperfections  enables 
him  to  cure  them  in  a  minimum  of  time. 

The  figures  (enchainement)  composing  the  new 
dances  have  no  set  order  of  performance ;  their  sequence 
is  at  caprice,  usually  suggested  by  the  music.  Nor  is 
there  yet  any  indication  that  their  increasing  number  has 
reached  its  limit.  Every  one  is  at  liberty  to  test  his 
powers  of  invention  and  composition,  to  experiment 
with  the  adaptation  of  steps  of  one  dance  into  another, 
and,  in  general,  to  give  play  to  his  individuality.  But, 
to  hasten  the  uniform  acceptance  of  a  certain  set  of  fig- 
ures as  a  standard  basis  of  each  dance,  it  would  be  best 
to  postpone  indulgence  in  fantasies  until  after  the  sub- 
joined figures  have  been  learned.  At  present  the  pro- 
gress of  the  Tango,  in  particular,  is  hampered  by  the  fact 
that  hardly  two  people  in  the  same  ballroom  will  be  found 
in  agreement  as  to  what  steps  constitute  that  dance. 
And,  as  noted  before,  a  preliminary  learning  of  the  fun- 
damentals will  enable  him  who  dances  to  decide  intel- 
ligently what  new  steps  may  be  added  to  a  dance  appro- 
priately, and  what  are  out  of  harmony  with  that 
dance's  character.  (The  discussion  of  theme,  in  the 
chapter  on  ballet  technique,  deals  with  composition  of 
steps.) 

Explicit  verbal  description  of  steps  is  possible  only 
by  use  of  the  accepted  designations  of  positions  of  the 
feet.  If  they  do  not  impress  themselves  on  the  memory 
clearly,  the  reader  should  by  all  means  copy  the  diagram 


276  THE  DANCE 

on  a  separate  slip,  and  keep  it  before  him  as  he  experi- 
ments with  the  translation  of  text  and  diagram  into 
practice  of  the  steps. 


i  ^  jn-       js:         /^ 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  designations  of  positions  differ 
from  those  of  the  ballet  in  the  respect  that  the  feet  "toe 
out"  at  an  angle  of  45°  to  an  imaginary  line  of  advance, 
instead  of  the  90°  prescribed  by  the  classic  ballet.  Modi- 
fications of  the  simple  positions,  such,  for  instance,  as 
anterior  or  posterior  position  of  either  foot,  open  or 
closed  position,  etc.,  will  explain  themselves  readily. 

The  relative  positions  of  partners  are  ( i )  closed  posi- 
tion, (2)  side  position,  and  (3)  open  position.  Closed 
position  is  that  of  the  individuals  facing  each  other, 
shoulders  parallel,  each  looking  over  the  other's  left 
shoulder,  the  man's  left  hand  holding  the  woman's  right 
hand,  and  his  right  hand  on  her  back.  Side  position 
moves  the  figures  (holding  each  other  practically  as  be- 
fore), each  to  his  left  or  each  to  his  right,  far  enough 
to  take  each  away  from  in  front  of  the  other.  Coming 
toward  the  spectator,  the  couple  in  side  position  shows 
the  width  of  both  bodies.  Open  position  places  the  man 
and  the  woman  side  by  side,  facing  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, joined  by  his  hand  on  her  waist,  or  by  holding 
hands. 

Necessary  preliminaries  disposed  of,  we  are  ready  to 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     277 

proceed  with  the  actual  mechanism  of  the  dances,  of 
which  the  first  to  be  considered  is 

THE  ONE-STEP 

1.  The  Castle  Walk  (invented  and  introduced  by 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Vernon  Castle).  This  is  a  walking  step 
of  direct  advance  and  retreat,  not  used  to  move  to  the 
side.  The  couple  are  in  closed  position,  the  woman, 
therefore,  stepping  backward  as  the  man  steps  forward, 
and  vice  versa.  The  advancing  foot  is  planted  in  fourth 
position,  the  knee  straight,  the  toe  down  so  that  the  ball 
of  the  foot  strikes  the  floor  first.  The  walk  presents  an 
appearance  of  strutting,  although  the  shoulders  are  held 
level,  and  the  body  firm;  a  sharp  twist  that  punctuates 
each  step  is  eflfected  by  means  of  pivoting  on  the  support- 
ing foot.  The  shoulder  and  hip  movements  that  origi- 
nally characterised  the  "trot"  are  no  longer  practiced. 

In  all  the  following  floor-plan  diagrams,  the  right 
foot  is  indicated  by  solid  black,  the  left  foot  by  outline. 

2.  The  Turn  is  a  walking  step,  pivoting  on  one  foot 
to  change  direction. 


<hf 


t 


The  right  foot  comes  from  the  preceding  step  to  the 
place  of  starting;  while  it  makes  two  successive  long 
steps  (i,  2)  the  left  foot  turns  "on  its  place."  The 
turn's  completion  brings  the  right  foot  into  anterior 
fourth  position.  The  woman's  steps  are  the  converse  of 
the  man's,  her  left  foot  making  the  long  steps,  while  her 


278  THE  DANCE 

right  foot  turns  on  its  place.  The  turn  gains  smooth- 
ness by  means  of  allowing  the  right  knees  to  touch  each 
other  lightly. 

3.  The  Dip.  Starting  with  (say)  the  right  foot  in 
posterior  fourth  position:  during  the  first  beat,  sink  (for 
form  see  photograph) ;  on  the  second  beat,  rise,  trans- 
ferring the  weight  to  the  left  (advanced)  foot,  gliding 
the  right  foot  up  to  third  position,  on  arriving  at  which 
it  instantly  receives  the  weight  again,  if  the  dip  is  to  be 
repeated.  In  that  case  the  left  foot  again  glides  to  an- 
terior fourth  position,  and  the  step  is  effected  as  before. 
Frequently  several  dips  are  made  in  succession.  They 
often  succeed  a  turn,  the  latter's  finish  leaving  the  feet 
in  appropriate  (fourth)  position  for  the  purpose. 

The  dip  is  executed  in  any  direction,  with  the  perform- 
ers in  any  position  of  the  couple.  It  occurs  in  other 
dances,  but  its  technique  is  always  the  same. 

4.  The  Grape- Vine  is  an  alternation  of  second  and 
fourth  positions  of  the  feet ;  one  foot  travelling  sidewise 
on  a  straight  line,  the  other  foot  going  from  anterior 


A&m/- 


*^ 


^ 


,a^  A*  f**^ 


to  posterior  fourth  position,  and  vice  versa.  The  step 
travels  to  the  woman's  right  (the  man's  left),  without 
turning. 

The  man's  steps  are  the  converse  of  the  woman's,  he 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     279 

starting  with  his  left  foot.  The  step  is  executed  in 
closed  position  of  the  couple,  and  is  usually  performed 
several  times  in  succession. 

The  arrival  of  the  feet  in  fourth  position  (i.  e.,  the 
steps  marked  "2"  in  the  diagram)  is  usually  punctuated 
with  a  slight  dip. 

5.  The  One-Step  Eight,  so  called  from  the  num- 
ber of  beats  it  occupies,  is  distinct  from  the  Tango 
Huit,  described  later,  which  describes  a  figure  8  on  the 
floor.  The  eight  of  the  One-Step  is  a  simple  walk,  with 
turn. 

X -> -y-i^ 

The  man's  steps  are  the  converse  of  the  woman's ;  she 
pivots  on  her  right  foot,  he  on  his  left  foot.  Executed 
in  closed  position  of  the  couple. 

6.  The  Square,  originally  a  Tango  figure,  is 
equally  effective  in  the  One-Step.     From  posterior  third 

°"^/5 T 

I  r-.     »  ^ 

position,  the  right  foot  steps  to  (i)  anterior  fourth  po- 
sition; left  foot  glides  to  (2)  second  position;  right 
foot  glides  into  (3)  first  position;  left  foot  steps  back 


28o 


THE  DANCE 


to  (4)  posterior  fourth  position;  right  foot  steps  to  (5) 
anterior  third  position.  It  is  usually  repeated  several 
times.     Executed  in  closed  position  of  the  couple. 

Execution  of  the  figure  occupies  two  measures  of  mu- 
sic; steps  done  in  half-time  are  indicated  by  the  word 
"and,"  instead  of  a  number.  The  learner  will  find  it 
useful  to  chant  the  count  aloud,  avoiding  stress  on  the 
half-count  of  "and." 

Let  it  be  understood  that  the  word  "and,"  used  in 
counting,  has  the  above  significance  in  descriptions  to 
come. 

7.  A  figure  whose  execution  occupies  three  measures. 
The  steps  of  the  first  bar  are  quick,  those  of  the  sec- 
ond slower;  the  difference  of  speed  should  be  empha- 
sised. 


^y»n«a4x4A«^-«Mt««/'i;2,3<»~/¥*    €u^a»tji 


^yi.ctv**t^jw 


I  yttUXLUIA4/' 


First  bar :  As  the  left  foot  crosses  over  to  "3,"  it  will 
be  noted  that  the  next  placement  of  the  right  foot  is 
marked  "and";  this  is  done  because  the  time  occupied 
by  the  little  movement  is  only  one-half  beat.  In  practice 
the  steps  are  counted,  one,  two,  three  and  four.  The  left 
foot's  step  marked  "4"  is  a  coupe;  as  the  foot  is  planted, 
it  displaces  the  Tight  foot ;  which  takes  a  position  ex- 
tended to  the  rear,  raised  from  the  floor. 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     281 

Second  bar :  The  space  between  the  last  place  of  the 
right  foot  in  the  first  bar  and  its  place  in  "i"  in  the 
second  bar,  does  not  represent  proportionate  progress 
across  the  floor;  the  steps  of  the  three  bars  are  dia- 
grammed consecutively,  to  avoid  the  confusion  of  super- 
imposed lines.  On  count  "1"  of  the  second  bar,  advance 
the  right  foot  from  its  raised  posterior  position  to  an- 
terior fifth  position.  Fill  in  the  count  of  "2"  with  a 
slow  advance  of  the  left  foot  to  fourth  position,  which 
it  reaches  on  count  "3";  upon  which  it  receives  the 
weight,  the  right  foot  simultaneously  being  raised  from 
the  floor  in  posterior  fourth  position  on  count  "4." 

Third  bar:  On  "i,"  plant  the  right  foot  in  posterior 
fourth  position  and  slowly  sink  the  weight  back  on  it; 
on  "2,"  glide  the  left  foot  back  slowly  (3)  to  reach 
third  position  on  count  "4." 

The  figure  is  executed  in  open  position  of  the  couple. 
Its  manner  is  smooth,  without  dips.  It  is  usually  re- 
peated several  times  in  succession. 

8.  The  Murray  Anderson  Turn:  a  turn  en  ara- 


,/^-.-../j'^. 


"'-Tii/.J.  % 


xj»^*uTuf  wOcn 


yU*tMJ 


'omom^ 


besque.     The  man  crosses  the  right  foot  in  front  of  the 
left,  and  transfers  his  weight  to  it  (i.  e.,  the  right  foot). 


282  THE  DANCE 

Simultaneously  the  woman,  holding  his  hand  in  her  hand 
(open  position  of  couple),  begins  a  walk  around  a  circle 
of  which  the  man^s  right  foot  is  the  centre.  As  his  legs 
"unwind,"  he  rises  to  the  ball  of  the  right  foot,  extend- 
ing the  left  leg  easily  to  the  rear  (see  arabesque,  chapter 
on  ballet  technique)  and  raising  the  left  foot  from  the 
floor. 

The  woman's  walking  movement  should  be  smooth 
rather  than  accented.  After  repeating  the  turns  ad  lib., 
it  is  found  that  the  One-Step  Eight  follows  harmoniously 
after  the  turn. 

9.  A  cross-over  with  a  woman's  turn.  This  figure 
looks  complicated  in  the  diagram  and  in  performance. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is  not  especially  difficult. 


/Xtl</  ttlMAUAtJ 


/ 

TjiMt/tMJ  <tA0f>J  T*\tc*uAt4/: 


The  diagram  represents  the  cross-over,  which  pre- 
cedes the  turn.     The  turn  is  described  in  words. 

In  preparation  for  the  cross-over,  the  couple  changes 
from  closed  to  side  position,  the  man  on  the  woman's  left. 
The  man's  steps  are  the  converse  of  the  woman's ;  and  his 
travel  back  and  forth  counters  hers,  so  that  the  two  pass 
and  repass — in  the  side  position  of  the  couple,  he  is  now 
on  the  her  left  side,  now  on  her  right,  and  so  on. 

Keeping  track  of  the  woman's  steps  on  the  diagram, 
read  the  man's  steps  one  by  one,  correlating  them  with 
the  woman's. 


Development  of  an  Arch  "A  La  Pirouette" 

Cross  to  right  (i)  —  Cross  to  left  (2) 

Start  of  turn  (3) 


To  face  page  iSz 


The  "One-Step" 
The  Kitchen  Sink ;  position  of  couple  (1,2) 

The  "Brazilian  Maxixe" 
Characteristic  position  of  advanced  foot  (3) 


To  face  page  28} 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     283 

After  taking  side  position  on  the  woman's  left,  the 
man  takes  two  walking  steps  forward,  right,  left;  cross- 
ing the  right  foot  in  front  of  the  left,  he  changes  to  the 
woman's  right  side.  Still  walking  forward,  right,  left, 
two  steps  bring  him  to  the  end  of  the  third  measure. 
Finish  in  first  position  of  the  feet. 

Note :  In  the  work  of  both  man  and  woman,  the  turn 
in  the  first  two  measures,  and  the  half-turn  in  the  third, 
involve  only  simple  walking  steps,  plus  a  pivot  to  change 
direction.  The  interaction  of  arms  suggests  itself  in 
practice. 

The  fourth  bar  marks  the  woman's  turn — or  pirouette, 
as  it  is  often  and  usually  mistakenly  called.  The  man's 
left  hand  holding  the  woman's  right  hand,  the  woman 
executes  a  turn — a  real  pirouette  (q.  v.)  is  permissible — 
under  the  man's  raised  left  arm,  finishing  in  closed 
position  of  the  couple.  (See  photographs.)  The  turn 
under  tbe  arm  is  sometimes  called  the  arch  a  la  pirouette. 

10.  A  woman's  turn,  varying  the  preceding,  with 
which  it  is  identical  up  to  the  end  of  the  second  bar. 

Having  completed  the  turn  occupying  the  first  and 
second  bars,  the  woman  lets  go  her  partner's  hand  and 
walks  around  behind  him,  completing  the  circuit  in  four 
steps.  These  must  be  measured  so  that  the  fourth  step 
brings  her  into  readiness  to  go  into  closed  position  of 
the  couple;  and  timed  so  that,  after  going  into  closed 
position,  the  couple  has  neither  to  wait  nor  to  hurry 
in  order  to  move  with  the  next  beat. 

During  the  walk  around,  the  woman  lightly  glides 
her  left  hand  around  the  man's  neck.  The  man  re- 
mains stationary,  his  left  arm  extended  horizontally 
before  him.  The  woman's  right  hand  takes  the  man's 
left  hand  as  she  comes  into  closed  position. 


284  THE  DANCE 

The  foregoing  movements  of  the  One-step  must  be 
executed  not  only  with  fine  regard  to  rhythm,  but  also 
to  continuity.  If  they  are  not  made  to  flow  one  into 
another,  the  effect  is  jerky  and  uncertain-looking. 

THE  BOSTON 

The  distinguishing  step-combination  of  this  very  at- 
tractive dance  is  complete  in  one  measure.  Its  essence 
is  in  a  certain  effect  of  syncopation,  secured  by  keeping 
the  weight  on  the  same  foot  through  two  successive 
beats — contrary  to  the  practice  of  transferring  the 
weight  with  each  beat,  as  in  the  old  Waltz.  Another  pe- 
culiarity of  the  Boston  is  the  carriage  of  the  weight 
counter  to  the  line  of  direction  of  travel,  giving  an  ef- 
fect of  holding  back.  The  dance  is  performed  with  de- 
liberation; its  execution  aims  at  a  rather  grand  style. 

The  dip  characteristic  of  and  named  for  the  Boston 
is,  in  execution,  the  same  as  the  dip  described  in  con- 
nection with  the  One-Step  (see  photographs).  The 
management  of  a  sequence  of  dips  as  they  occur  in  the 
Boston  is,  however,  a  matter  for  special  attention,  which 
will  be  given  it  in  its  place. 

I.  The  essential  step: 

•  •  •  «•  ~"  -T  ^»  ' 

On  count  "i,"  the  entire  weight  is  thrown  upon  the 
right  foot ;  and  there  it  continues  through  the  remainder 
of  the  bar.  On  count  "2,"  swing  the  left  foot  forward 
into  anterior  fourth  position,  straightening  the  left 
knee,  touching  the  floor  with  the  point,  as  far  forward 
as  is  possible  without  taking  any  of  the  weight  off  the 


Thk  Waliz 

A  position  of  the  couple  in  the  Waltz  Minuet  (i)  — Correct  position  of  man's 

hand  on  woman's  back  (2)  —  A  position  also  assumed 

in  the  One-Step  Eight  (3)  —  A  Dip  (4J 


To  face  page  284 


The  Waltz 

Showing  correct  positions 

Of  couple  (i)  —  Of  feet,  in  short  steps  (2)  —  Of  feet,  in  Dip  (3)  —  Another  view  of 

the  Dip  (4) 


To  face  paec  i8c 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     285 

right  foot;  meanwhile  the  right  foot  rises  to  the  ball. 
On  count  "3,"  lower  the  heel  of  the  right  foot  to  the 
floor. 

Turn  by  pivoting  on  the  supporting  foot,  continuing 
to  touch  the  point  of  the  free  foot  to  the  floor. 

In  the  bar  that  follows,  the  left  foot  takes  the  first 
step,  as  before.  To  accomplish  this  the  weight  must 
be  kept  on  the  right  foot. 

2.  The  step  backward  is  the  converse  of  the  fore- 
going. The  diagram  indicates,  as  start,  the  position 
in  which  the  feet  were  left  by  the  preceding  step. 

.      '/p^ '^'^^y-"^^' 

For  the  sake  of  simplicity,  the  diagrams  indicate  a 
straight  advance-and-retreat  movement.  It  will  be  un- 
derstood that,  in  practice,  this  is  varied  to  effect  turns, 
i.  e.,  by  pivoting  on  the  supporting  foot. 

The  execution  above  indicated  applies  to  the  Long 
Boston.  In  the  Short  Boston  each  beat  is — or  was — 
made  the  equivalent  of  two  counts  for  the  feet.  The 
resulting  jerkiness  and  lack  of  sweep  excluded  the  Short 
Boston  from  any  lasting  popularity. 

3.  The  Boston  Dip  is,  in  practice,  a  series  of  three 
successive  dips,  executed  in  reverse  turning  movement. 
Each  of  the  three  occupies  a  whole  measure,  and  a  fourth 
measure  is  used  in  returning  to  the  regular  Boston  walk- 
ing step. 

In  putting  the  step  into  practice  from  the  diagram, 
the  student  will  greatly  simplify  the  process  by  chanting 
the  count:  right/  left,  right;  left/  right,  left;  right/ 


286 


THE  DANCE 


left,  right,  etc.,  accented  as  indicated,  on  the  first  beat 
of  each  measure.  Because  the  foot  designated  by  the 
accented  count  receives  the  weight ;  and  the  more  nearly 
the  disposal  of  the  weight  can  be  made  to  take  care  of 
itself,  the  more  attention  the  student  has  for  other  de- 
tails. 

3 


"TluA^ 


^mxjbeUMJvty 


lu<r. 


■>iiryto.MAfAJ^ 


The  dip  begins  on  the  first  beat,  completing  the  re- 
covery on  the  third.  It  always  is  made  with  the  right 
foot  in  posterior  position.  In  fact,  the  right  foot  does 
not  get  out  of  posterior  position.  Now,  on  measures 
where  the  left  foot  takes  the  first  count,  as  in  the  first 
measure  (above  diagram)  this  is  easy.  But  in  alter- 
nate measures  the  right  foot  takes  the  first  beat,  and 
just  here  begins  confusion  from  which  few  find  any  es- 
cape except  'by  means  of  practice.  Perhaps  owing  to 
a  rhythm  that  the  dip  has  in  common  with  the  old 
Waliz,  the  right  foot  has  a  tendency  to  go,  in  its  turn, 
into  the  anterior  position.  But  it  nmst  be  kept  back. 
It  must  be  kept,  broadly  speaking,  on  the  outer  of  two 
curving  paths,  of  which  the  left  travels  the  inner.  Note 
the  appearance  of  this  on  the  diagram  showing  turns. 

If  the  learner  succeeds,  at  this  point,  in  performing 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     287 

the  dip  to  the  satisfaction  of  a  candid  and  intelligent 
critic,  let  him  by  all  means  proceed  to  the  next  section, 
praising  Allah  for  the  gift  of  facility.  If  not,  let  him 
be  cheered  by  the  fact  that  it  is  as  difficult  for  any  one 
else  as  for  himself.  A  semblance  of  it  is  easily  acquired. 
To  insure  reality,  return  to  the  figure  on  page  286. 

Observe  that  in  bars  where  the  right  foot  takes  the 
first  count  (the  even-numbered  measures,  beginning 
with  the  second)  the  right  foot  does  not  step  out  in  ad- 
vance of  the  left  foot.  Instead,  it  sweeps  out  to  the 
side;  the  movement  is  accompanied  by  pivoting  on  the 
left  foot.  A  short  step  of  the  left  foot  to  place  "2"  marks 
the  cadence  and  preserves  its  anterior  fourth  position. 
On  the  other  hand,  in  measures  where  the  left  foot  takes 
the  first  count,  it  keeps  its  anterior  position  almost  auto- 
matically. 


2^r/. 


^ >T'- > 

As  an  added  expression  of  the  difference  of  treatment 
between  the  alternate  measures,  it  is  here  reduced  to  the 
form  of  a  straight  advance. 

The  Boston  Dip  carries  with  it  the  possibility  of  beauty 
commensurate  with  its  difficulty.  On  the  other  hand,  its 
good  execution  is  none  too  common.  The  exhilaration 
that  attends  its  performance  appears,  sometimes,  to  flat- 
ter the  performer  into  a  belief  that  his  style  is  as  agree- 
able as  his  sensation.  It  is,  therefore,  more  than  others, 
a  step  in  which  every  one  should  submit  his  execution 
to  rigourous  and  intelligent  criticism. 


288  THE  DANCE 

4.  An  embellishing  enchainement ,  complete  in  six 
measures,  of  which  each  is  filled  by  one  step. 

Until  the  "6"  count,  the  figure  represents  a  straight 
advance  and  retreat.  The  diagram  departs  slightly 
from  that  form  in  order  to  avoid  the  confusion  of  super- 
imposed lines. 


'J^ 


As  an  aid,  count  as  follows:  Step,'  Dip,'  Point'-dip, 
Step/  Dip,'  Turn.'  Turn  in  the  regular  direction,  not 
in  reverse ;  and  accompany  the  turn  also  with  a  dip. 

In  the  third  measure,  the  left  foot  recedes  quickly 
from  its  anterior  position  (where  it  points)  to  its  pos- 
terior position.  In  the  third,  fourth  and  fifth  measures, 
note  that  the  left  foot  makes  three  successive  move- 
ments. 

5.  Another  embellishment.  Without  turns,  its  the- 
ory is  as  follows: 

Each  count  represents  one  measure. 
With  turns  included,  the  figure  works  out  as  follows 
(for  instance) : 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     289 

A^-- ,., 

/  ^' ■—-...       ^\k*. 
.^...^^  ^         ^'^ 

The  couple  is  in  closed  position.     The  above  diagrams 
represent  the  man's  steps ;  the  woman's  are  the  converse. 
Repeat  at  will. 

THE  HESITATION  WALTZ 

This  new  evolution  preserves  all  the  charm  of  the 
old-fashioned  Walts,  and  by  means  of  certain  embellish- 
ments has  given  it  new  life  and  interest. 

I.  Its  THEME  is  readily  understood  by  means  of  a  dia- 
gram : 

^-— -" n-—"r^—--^\ 

^k ^^X Ni|.A^fl^£e,,,....«nlkj 


This  key  step  is  complete  in  two  measures.  It  will  be 
noted  that  the  first  measure  is  devoted  to  a  walking 
step. 

Elevation:  the  "i"  beat  in  the  second  bar  is  accom- 
panied by  a  slight  dip.  Toward  the  last  of  the  second 
bar  the  dancers  slowly  draw  themselves  up  until,  on 
"3,"  they  are  raised  to  the  ball  of  the  supporting  foot. 
The  man's  right  leg,  as  it  draws  the  right  foot  up  to 
place  "3,"  is  distinctly  relaxed. 

Note,  in  the  second  bar,  that  the  right  foot  continues 
to  move  during  the  second  beat. 


290  THE  DANCE 

The  step  is  performed  in  either  open  or  closed  posi- 
tion of  the  couple.  If  the  former,  the  woman's  steps 
are  identical  with  the  man's ;  if  the  latter,  the  converse. 
If  in  open  position,  the  travel  is  forward. 

To  turn  in  the  regular  direction,  the  step  indicated  in 
the  second  measure  is  in  use. 

2.  The  Reverse  is  effected  by  an  alternation  of  Bos- 
ton Dips  with  an  equal  number  of  measures  of  old-fash- 
ioned Walts  (see  Boston  Dip).  Dip  in  measures  where 
the  right  foot  is  in  posterior  position  without  aid  of  a 
shortened  step  or  of  a  left-foot  pivot;  in  other  words, 
measures  in  which  the  right  foot  is  forced  into  posterior 
position. 

3.  A  variation  of  the  theme: 


v^::;:v:r.-.^.v 


For  convenience,  count  the  time:  one,  two,  three, 
pause.  On  the  word  "pause,"  throw  the  weight  strongly 
on  to  the  left  foot,  the  right  remaining  easily  in  second 
position  with  the  edge  of  the  sole  resting  on  the 
floor. 

In  repeating,  move  at  right  angles  to  the  direction 
followed  in  the  preceding  measure.  The  man's  direc- 
tion turns  toward  his  left,  the  woman's  toward  her  right. 

4.  The  Lyon  Chasse  :  an  effective  figure  in  open  po- 
sition of  the  couple.  Complete  in  one  measure;  advan- 
tageously repeated  several  times. 


The  "Tango" 
Mr.  Anderson  and  Miss  Lyon 

Characteristic  style  (i,  2,  4)  —  Woman  circles  man  (3) 


, 

il 

L 

■ 

1 

1 

I 

1 

The  "Tango" 
Characteristic  style 


To  face  page  191 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY    291 
^•-        ^:- 

^  ^ >4"r*"g"x 

7}^m,<w  ti'^^  -jv.       «-y       ^ 

Count  ow^,  two  and  f/ir^^. 

Description  of  the  man's  steps:  Advance  right  foot 
to  fourth  position,  where  it  receives  the  weight  ( i ) ; 
cross  left  foot  over  in  front  of  right  foot,  pivoting  on 
the  latter  with  the  swing  of  the  left  foot,  so  that  the  left 
foot  when  planted  is  in  anterior  fourth  position  (2)  ; 
cross  right  foot  behind  left  (and)  step  out  with  left 
foot  in  the  direction  of  starting.  The  travel  effected 
is  a  straight  advance. 

The  woman's  steps  are  the  converse  of  the  man's, 
bringing  the  couple  face  to  face  on  "2.'' 

THE  ARGENTINE  TANGO 

To  some  people  the  Tango  seems  to  be  an  object  of 
suspicion.  In  a  previous  incarnation,  three  or  four 
years  ago,  it  did,  in  all  likelihood,  fall  short  of  the  re- 
quirements for  acceptance  in  Anglo-Saxon  ballrooms. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  the  correction  of  its  shortcomings, 
or  the  transformation  of  them  into  virtues,  there  lin- 
gers a  semifashion  of  nagging  at  it.  Of  those  volun- 
teers for  its  reformation  who  make  specific  complaints, 
no  two  factions  have  a  point  of  belief  in  common;  the 
factions  are  numerous,  and  their  observations  not  very 
logical.  Indeed,  it  would  be  illuminating  as  well  as  en- 
tertaining if  dictagraphic  reports  could  be  collected,  of 
all  the  discussions  the  Tango  has  inspired  since  its  in- 


292  THE  DANCE 

troduction  in  Paris.  Such  reports  should  be  given  to 
one  of  the  serious-minded  critics  of  the  dance  for  com- 
pilation, with  his  own  comments.  "The  movements  em- 
ployed in  the  Tango,  soberly  viewed  as  a  measure  of 
respectability" — some  such  title  as  that  the  treatise 
should  have,  to  be  representative  of  a  species  of  mis- 
giving of  which  expression  has  not  wholly  subsided. 

It  is  time  that  the  ghost  should  be  laid,  since  the  Tango 
is  now,  and  has  been  for  a  year  or  more,  a  beautiful  and 
irreproachable  dance — assuming,  of  course,  its  perform- 
ance in  the  clean  spirit  usually  found  in  good  society. 
Any  dance  can  be  made  suggestive  or  offensive.  So 
can  walking.  But  that  is  no  reflection  on  the  intrinsic 
quality  of  either  dance  or  walk.  The  measure  of  the 
beauty  or  character  of  a  dance  is  to  be  found  in  the  move- 
ments which,  by  common  acceptance,  that  dance  pre- 
scribes ;  a  rendering  that  departs  from  those  movements 
fails  to  measure  those  attributes,  in  so  far  as  it  violates 
the  accepted  form.  Now,  a  couple  of  specimens  of  the 
movements  that  bring  criticism  upon  the  Tango. 

Of  its  characteristics,  one  is  a  manner  of  touching 
the  point  to  the  floor,  the  foot  pointing  straight  for- 
ward; followed  by  a  quick  raise  of  the  foot,  the  raise 
accompanied  by  a  turn  outward  of  the  heel.  The  ef- 
fect is,  undoubtedly,  exotic;  that  is  part  of  its  charm. 
It  is  criticised,  however,  on  grounds  of  respectability! 

One  more  movement  carries  this  offending  step  to 
the  attention  of  a  wholly  different  set  of  censors.  These 
latter  have  found  no  fault  with  the  touch  of  the  foot 
to  the  floor  in  (say)  second  position,  and  its  raise  in  the 
indicated  manner.  But  now,  the  same  foot  moves  back 
to  fourth  position.  Just  that.  The  same  old  fourth 
position,  without  innovation  or  adornment.     And  there- 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     293 

upon,  with  all  seeming  earnestness,  the  second  informal 
committee  of  censors  protests  on  grounds  of  respecta- 
bility! Why?  Is  it  because,  in  coming  to  that  fourth 
position,  two  steps  were  taken  in  succession  by  the  same 
foot?  No,  that  is  not  it;  it  seems  that  fourth  position 
is  at  fault,  per  se. 

The  character  of  the  objections  suggests  the  existence 
of  an  apprehension  that  an  unqualified  acceptance  of  the 
Tango  would  be  risque.  There  is  no  other  explanation 
for  the  hostility,  under  present  conditions  of  the  dance. 
Yet,  idle  as  are  the  objections,  they  cannot  be  quite  over- 
looked. A  certain  number  of  vacillators  are  listening 
now  to  one  voice,  to  another  to-morrow :  however  great 
or  small  their  influence,  in  ratio  to  its  strength  it  will 
tend  to  denature  a  product  that  now  has  a  flavour  to 
interest  discerning  taste,  yet  hardly  to  imperil  the  weak- 
headed. 

Dropping  the  above  issue,  the  Tangoes  trick  of  the 
foot  continues  to  be  interesting;  this  time  in  relation  to 
the  interest  of  character.  The  sharp  in-twist  of  the  foot 
is  one  of  the  points  of  individuality  both  of  the  Tango 
and  the  dance  of  the  Arab.  Now,  probable  family  re- 
lationship puts  the  Tango  under  no  obligation  to  family 
traits,  for  the  sake  of  family  dignity;  that  is  beside  the 
point.  But,  in  its  own  interest,  the  Tango  would  do 
well  to  take  a  careful  look  at  the  work  of  the  Arab,  to 
see  that  it  is  deriving  equal  profit  from  the  same  re- 
sources. Which  it  is  not.  By  current  usage  (in  the 
United  States  at  least)  the  Tango  makes  a  practice  of 
toeing  forward,  or  even  in,  to  an  extent  that  is  not  only 
monotonous,  but  which  robs  the  quick  in-turn  device  of 
the  value  of  surprise.  The  Arab  woman,  on  the  other 
hand,  places  her  feet  at  a  natural  angle;  moreover,  she 


294  THE  DANCE 

precedes  the  sharp  turn-in  with  an  outward  turn  suf- 
ficiently marked  to  give  the  former  a  telling  contrast. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  Flamenco  dances  in  Spain. 
Their  superior  use  of  the  trick  justifies  attention  on  the 
part  of  those  under  whose  influence  the  new  dance  is  de- 
termining its  final  form. 

In  point  of  merit,  the  Tango  measures  up  to  a  stand- 
ard which,  though  by  no  means  a  true  measure  of  qual- 
ity, has  a  certain  practical  value:  it  is  sufficiently  pic- 
turesque to  cover  the  faults  of  a  half-good  dancer.  Con- 
versely, as  a  vehicle  for  the  equilibrium  and  style  that 
unite  in  a  very  good  dancer,  it  is  not  excelled  by  any 
social  dance  of  modern  times. 

It  should  be  noted  that  the  most  suitable  music  is 
among  the  compositions  of  the  Argentinos  themselves. 

I.  The  Tango  Walk  (Spanish,  el  Paseo;  French, 
le  Promenade)  is  used  as  a  variety  to  figures.  The  man 
moves  forward,  starting  with  the  left  foot,  the  woman 
backward.  The  step  brings  the  advancing  foot  to  posi- 
tion squarely  in  front  of  the  supporting  foot,  both  (by 
the  present  mode)  pointed  straight  forward.  The  full 
weight  is  transferred  to  the  advanced  foot  as  soon  as 
possible,  the  knee  of  the  leg  in  posterior  position 
promptly  relaxed,  the  posterior  foot  resting,  for  a  mo- 
ment, lightly  on  the  point.  The  step  in  advance  is  made 
with  a  light  gliding  movement. 

In  turning,  follow  the  reverse  direction  invariably. 

Technique  of  the  step  backward :  Start  the  foot  with 
a  glide,  letting  it  rise  from  the  floor  toward  the  end  of 
the  step,  meanwhile  toeing  in\^ard;  plant  the  foot 
squarely  to  the  rear  of  the  supporting  foot.  At  the 
moment  of  placing  the  retreating  foot,  the  knee  of  the 
advanced  leg  is  relaxed,  and  the  advanced  foot  is  turned 


The  "Tango" 

The  two  upper  pictures  represent  phases  of  the  "Scissors"  figure.     The  two  lower 
show  characteristic  style  of  the  "Tango" 


To  face  page  194 


rANGO" 


The  Reverse  (semi-open  position)  (i)  — The  regular  Tango  walking  step  (2)  — 
I  I  and  2  apply  also  to  the  One-step  Eight] — Style  of  movement  (3)  —  Posi- 
tion of  hands    sometimes    assumed    to    emphasize    the    end    of   a    phrase    (4) 


To  face  page  295 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     295 

inward,  the  heel  remaining  placed  as  a  pivot.     The  same 
directions  apply  to  man  and  woman. 
2.  The  Corte. 


•t/C^nyJU- 


yv^»lM4^  ^s^ 


Starting  in  first  position :  Put  the  weight  on  the  right 
foot  ( I )  ;  step  forward  with  the  left  foot,  quickly  bring- 
ing the  right  up  to  third  position,  both  steps  accom- 
plished on  (2)  ;  bring  the  left  foot  back  to  fifth  position, 
rise  on  balls  of  feet  (3),  drop  heels  to  floor  with  plie 
of  knees  (4). 

The  second  measure  finds  the  right  foot  in  anterior 
fifth  position.  The  first  beat  brings  it  back  to  posterior 
fifth  position  and  throws  the  weight  upon  it.  Continue 
same  as  first  measure. 

3.  The  Scissors.  (Spanish,  las  Tijeras;  French, 
les  Ciseaux.) 


i^ 


''/^'"^^/J^-Cyi^-"-'-A^/^^"^' 


poinf 
5ZaAf 


The  "i"  count  is  marked  by  a  touch-and-turn  of  the 
foot;  touch  the  point  to  the  floor,  and  instantly  raise  it, 
sharply,  throwing  the  heel  out ;  set  foot  on  place  "2." 

With  the  turn  of  the  foot,  allow  the  hips  (but  not  the 


296  THE  DANCE 

shoulders)  to  turn  also  in  such  manner  as  to  bring  the 
right  foot,  for  the  moment,  into  posterior  fourth  posi- 
tion.    This  applies  to  beat  "i."     "la"  represents  the 
pointing  of  right  and  left  foot  respectively. 
A  variation  of  the  same  is  effected  as  follows : 

>^..->^ 

Turning  may  be  accomplished  by  (a)  the  man  cross- 
ing the  right  foot  over  the  left,  and  (b)  the  woman 
"unwinding"  him  by  moving  around  him  executing  scis- 
sors steps,  turning  to  her  right.  Done  in  closed  position 
of  the  couple. 

4.  The  Media  Luna  (French,  la  Demi-lune). 


W! ♦' 


4- 


^ 


cuvuH  ^^/flZoo/'^i^.^'^^ 


Start  in  first  position.  Right  foot  to  anterior  fourth 
position  (i);  left  foot  to  second  position  (and)  right 
foot  glided  to  first  position  (2).  Left  foot  to  posterior 
fourth  position  (3)  ;  right  foot  to  second  position  (and) 
left  foot  to  first  position  (4). 

The  place  and  position  of  start  and  finish  are  identical. 

5.  The  Eight  (Spanish,  el  Ocho;  French,  le  Huit). 

Start  in  first  position.  Cross  right  foot  in  front  of 
left  (i);  bring  left  foot  to  first  position  (and)  right 


The  "Tango" 
The  Corte  (i)  —  Characteristic  style  (2)  —A  variation  (3)  —  Start  of  a  turn  (4) 


To  face  page  296 


A  "Tango"  Step 

Man's  foot  displaces  woman's  (i) — Woman's  foot  displaces  man's  (2)  —  Each 
displaces  the  other's  foot  (3) 


To  face  page  297 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY    297 


Sto^ 


OvUf 


foot  to  posterior  fourth  position  (2)  ;  cross  left  foot  over 
in  front  of  right  (3),  right  foot  to  first  position  (and) 
left  foot  forward  to  fourth  position. 

Executed  either  in  open  or  closed  position  of  the 
couple.  In  the  latter,  the  woman's  steps  are  the  con- 
verse of  the  above.  In  open  position  the  same  steps  are 
used  by  both  partners;  their  travel  describing  a  zigzag 
figure. 

6.  A  Waltz  Turn.  To  change  from  one  figure  to 
another,  the  couple  may  make  several  turns  in  reverse 
direction,  by  means  of  Waltz  step. 


1   Q     o^,*ui 


Qdvanu.      mi. 
Left,  /UiJt/;SimA- 


7. 


i~  yynJtci^jUAJW 


\i 


pfV^ 


Z,AifJi 


AUty 


Y  «^    z' 


X'^yytUaUtAjC' 


Cii^^Au4y 


h 


6hnkJji^ 


.^    Z'. 


d^ 


^^^aXULUAJW 


■i  .eX^\4  .AjiM.- 


S^: 


^^. 


./Vt^JMMJlAX.^ 


First  measure:  With  the  rise  on  the  left  foot,  the 
right  foot  would  best  be  considered,  for  simplicity's  sake, 
as  leaving  the  floor,  and  remaining  in  the  air  until  "i" 
of  the  second  measure. 

Second  measure :     On  "i,"  the  weight  goes  back  upon 


298  THE  DANCE 

the  right  foot;  consider  the  left  foot  in  the  air,  until 
"i"  of  the  third  measure. 

Third  measure:    Same  as  first  measure. 

Fourth  measure :  Cross  right  foot  over  left  foot  and 
simultaneously  rise  ( i )  ;  hold  the  position  until  "2." 
Sink  with  sufficient  plie  to  give  softness  of  movement. 
Pick  up  the  right  foot  smartly  at  the  end  of  the  last 
measure  in  which  this  step  is  used. 

In  character  with  the  Walts,  the  above  movements  are 
made  to  flow  together  in  execution.  But  a  thorough 
grasp  of  their  sequence  must  be  acquired  primarily. 

The  turn  is  used  to  separate  enchainements,  in  the 
manner  of  the  reverse  of  the  Hesitation  Walts,  to  which 
it  is  analogous  in  structure. 

7.  An  easy  step. 


I 


'I  /^ 
6* 


f^    ZotuL-OA^J-TuAAU 


On  "3,"  bend  the  right  knee,  at  the  same  time  slightly 
raising  the  left  foot  from  the  floor  (posterior  fourth 
position).     On  "4,"  pick  up  left  foot  sharply. 

In  execution,  pivot  on  supporting  foot,  to  turn  in  reg- 
ular direction. 


A  North  American  Figure  in  the  "Tango" 
Preparation  (i)  —  After  the  twist  (2)  —  Finishing  with  a  Dip  (3) 


To  face  page  198 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     299 


As  the  right  foot  does  its  touch-and-turn,  incline  the 
body  away  from  it;  and  vice  versa.  Note  same  as  a 
Tango  principle. 

8.  The  same,  to  the  rear. 


0 


U      \  ^  ,uu>oU' Ay.  J^cf' 


'k 


1"^ 

^    y 


In  this  and  the  preceding  figure,  "2"  indicates 
the  Tango's  manner  of  touching  the  point  to  the  floor  and 
quickly  raising  the  foot,  at  the  same  time  turning  the 
heel  out  sharply.  This  (a)  bends  the  knee  and  (b) 
throws  the  hip  slightly  forward.  Give  reasonable  play 
to  both  tendencies. 

9.  A  North  American  figure,  used  principally  by  ex- 
hibition dancers. 


jfi.- 


^..?i 


>i 


^/7 


Start  in  first  position.     Advance  left  foot  to  fourth 
position,  stamp  ( i ) ;  advance  right  foot  to  fourth  posi- 


300  THE  DANCE 

tion,  keeping  it  in  the  air  (2) ;  a  rond  de  jambe  half- 
turn,  very  fast,  pivoting  on  left  foot,  to  bring  right  foot 
to  anterior  fourth  position  (3)  ;  very  low  dip  or  kneel 

(4). 

Exhibition  dancers  frequently  adorn  the  rond  de 
jambe  v^^ith  a  little  circle  (from  the  knee  as  pivot)  de- 
scribed by  the  foot,  executed  during  and  without  inter- 
rupting the  big  sweep.  The  little  movement  adds  daz- 
zle to  the  rapidly  executed  big  movement. 

Performed  in  open  position  of  the  couple.  The  half- 
turn  brings  them  about-face,  facing  each  other  in  the 
course  of  turning.     (See  photographs.) 

10.  El  Volteo  (the  Whirl)  is  the  name  of  a  figure  of 
which  descriptions  come  from  Paris.  The  mechanism 
of  the  step  is  identical  with  that  of  the  grapevine  of  the 
One-Step. 

THE  BRAZILIAN  MAXIXE 

This  is,  virtually,  a  revival  of  the  Two-Step,  plus  cer- 
tain Tango  steps  and  enchainements.  Instead  of  the 
Tangoes  touch-and-turn-in  of  the  foot,  it  employs  a  de- 
vice of  resting  the  heel  on  the  floor,  the  foot  pointed 
upward,  while  the  body  assumes  a  bent-over  posture  not 
particularly  attractive. 


>£^ 


/Z.alM *^-f^"^'^ 


The  First  Step. 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     301 

As  in  other  present-day  dances,  usage  requires  no  set 
sequence  of  figures. 

1.  Execute  the  first  measure  with  the  body  somewhat 
supple,  and  a  good  deal  of  rise  and  sink  in  the  steps. 
The  effect  may  be  varied  by  inclining  the  body  rather 
sinuously  from  side  to  side. 

2.  A  Flying  Two-Step:  a  two-step  in  which  the 
advanced  foot  points  upward,  touching  the  heel  to  the 
floor — except  on  turns.  Continue  as  many  measures 
without  turning  as  is  found  interesting;  eight  are  not 
too  many. 


ACci^ 


Another  Step. 

3.  Man's  steps:  Starting  in  first  position,  advance 
right  foot  to  fourth  position  ( i )  ;  glide  left  foot  to 
second  position  (2)  ;  glide  right  foot  to  posterior  third 
position  (3) ;  carry  left  foot  to  posterior  fourth  posi- 
tion, pause  en  attitude,  and,  plant  it,  transferring  weight 
to  it  and  raising  right  (advanced)  foot,  point  down  (4). 

Woman's  steps:  Advance  left  foot  to  posterior 
fourth  position  ( i )  ;  glide  right  foot  to  second  position 
(2)  ;  glide  left  foot  to  posterior  third  position  (3)  ;  plant 
right  foot  in  anterior  fourth  position  and  raise  the  left 
foot  from  the  floor  (4).  During  the  pause  on  "4," 
the  woman  leans  slightly  forward. 

Until  the  third  beat,  her  steps  are  the  converse  of  the 


302  THE  DANCE 

man's.  Then,  it  will  be  noted,  her  position  becomes  the 
same  as  the  man's:  each,  through  a  half-beat,  is  sup- 
ported on  the  right  foot,  the  left  extended  back  en  atti- 
tude. The  count  of  "4'*  again  finds  the  couple  in  con- 
verse positions,  the  man's  right  foot  being  pointed  for- 
ward while  the  woman's  is  extended  back. 

4.  An  Arch  a  la  Pirouette.  Holding  his  partner's 
right  hand  in  his  left  hand,  the  man  executes  four  polka- 
steps  forward;  while  the  woman,  by  means  of  four 
polka-steps,  makes  a  complete  turn  toward  her  left.  The 
engaged  hands  are  raised  to  allow  her  to  pass  under 
the  arms. 

5.  Miscellaneous.  The  foregoing  may  be  varied  with 
slow  walking  steps,  one  to  each  measure ;  running  steps, 
two  to  each  measure;  and  polka-steps,  with  a  dip  on 
the  first  beat. 

Owing  partly  to  its  facility,  the  Maxixe  is  likely  to  be 
remembered  as  of  the  group  whose  spread  over  the 
Occident  has  represented  a  striking  social  phenomenon. 
Of  the  Maxixe,  the  One-Step,  the  two  Waltzes  and  the 
Tango,  the  leap  into  popularity  has  been  so  incredibly 
sudden,  and  the  popularity  so  far-reaching,  that  it 
suggests  a  great,  curious  story;  a  story  with  dances 
and  nations  as  characters;  a  story  whose  capacity  for 
surprises  is  so  well  proven  that  all  the  world  keeps  ask- 
ing itself,  "What  next?" 

That  the  tendency  is  not  in  the  direction  of  the  gro- 
tesque is  evidenced  in  the  history  of  the  Turkey  Trot. 

So  far  the  layman  may  read  for  himself.  For  more 
definite  opinion,  we  turn  to  those  who,  by  intimate  as- 
sociation with  the  art  in  the  capacity  of  teachers  and 
performers,  are  situated  to  observe  the  attitude  of  the 
public  toward  the  art ;  and  who  also,  by  virtue  of  a  broad 


The  "Brazilian  Maxixe" 
Characteristic  style  (i)  — A  Dip  (2)  —  Variations  (3,  4) 


To  face  page  }02 


The  "Brazilian  Maxixe" 

Preparation  for  a  turn  (i)  —  Finish  of  a  turn  (2)  —  Characteristic  style  (3)  —  A 

Dip  (4) 


To  face  page  30} 


SOCIAL  DANCING  OF  TO-DAY     303 

knowledge  of  dancing,  are  capable  of  relating  their 
observations  to  choreographic  geography  and  history. 
Madame  Pavlowa,  of  the  world;  Mr.  Anderson,  now 
of  America;  and  Miss  Nellie  Chaplin  of  London,  have 
committed  themselves  definitely  as  to  future  probabili- 
ties ;  and  with  their  opinion  authorities  generally  are  in 
full  agreement.     To  the  effect  that: 

The  dances  of  the  seventeenth-century  courts  are  the 
objective  toward  which  present-day  steps  are  moving 
directly.  They  are  a  part  of  the  curriculum  of  Miss 
Chaplin's  famous  London  school.  A  Gavotte  Direc- 
toire  presented  by  Madame  Pavlowa,  one  of  her  most 
popular  numbers,  seems  the  very  spirit  of  modernism. 
She  expresses  the  belief  that  the  Russian  Gavotte,  in 
which  is  preserved  the  courtly  spirit,  is  destined  to  wide 
acceptance.  Mr.  Anderson  demonstrates  points  of  step 
and  style  that  link  together  most  convincingly  the  old 
and  the  new.  Familiarity  with  the  court  dances  is  the 
dominant  influence  in  his  treatment  of  the  dances  of  to- 
day; and  the  significant  part  of  it  is  that  the  essential 
modernism  of  his  manner,  in  steps  rapid  or  slow,  lies 
in  a  poise  which,  until  yesterday,  was  supposed  to  be 
old-fashioned. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
A  layman's  estimate  of  conditions 

THAT  great  dancing  is  a  useful  and  desirable  ad- 
dition to  human  happiness  needs  no  argument. 
Its  power  to  delight  the  vision  and  expand  the 
imagination ;  its  value  as  an  example  and  incentive  to  an 
exercise  unsurpassed  as  an  ally  of  health — these  and 
other  virtues  are  obvious.  More  completely,  perhaps, 
than  any  of  its  tributary  arts,  dancing  has  the  power  to 
impart  that  indefinable  mental  well-being  that  great 
art  aims  to  give  its  auditor  or  spectator.  As  music  is 
refreshment  for  one,  pictures  for  another,  so  the  con- 
templation of  dancing  is  the  means  of  ordering  and  en- 
ergising the  mind  of  a  third.  We  of  the  United  States 
are  a  beauty-loving  people  in  the  main,  and  almost 
unanimously  attuned  to  the  message  of  action — so  long 
as  we  understand  its  meaning.  Once  really  established 
among  such  a  people,  dancing  would  take  a  position  of 
importance  second  to  no  other  source  of  national  in- 
spiration. In  the  meantime,  there  are  unorganised  co- 
horts of  us  to  whom  good  dancing,  like  good  reading,  is 
something  of  a  necessity;  and  we  should  like  to  know 
what  we  have  a  right  to  expect  from  the  near  future. 
"The  public  gets  what  it  wants,"  is  the  sophisticated 
comment  almost  invariably  drawn  forth  by  any  discus- 
sion along  these  lines.  Which  comment  exposes  its 
own  superficiality;  the  suggestion  of  the  existence  of 
any   one  public,   in   relation   to   the   arts,   is   absurd. 

304 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  305 

Patronising  dancing  there  appear,  at  the  very  first 
glance,  two  pubHcs  as  widely  separated  as  inhabitants 
of  different  planets;  each  public  possessed  of  apprecia- 
tions inconceivable  to  the  other,  and  even  contemptible. 
These  are  the  public  that  applauds  the  buxom  laziness 
which  substitutes  for  dancing  in  the  so-called  "amuse- 
ment" known  as  burlesque,  as  distinguished  from  the 
public  that  responds  to  the  pure  beauty  of  opera  ballet 
or  well-performed  ballet  pantomime. 

Between  these  two  extremes  is  an  intermediate  pub- 
lic that  is  the  more  or  less  innocent  cause  of  endless 
confusion,  and  whose  good  nature  is  an  obstacle  to  the 
betterment  of  standards.  In  the  theatre,  even  when 
the  chaff  outweighs  the  wheat,  it  applauds  everything. 
The  next  day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Intermediate  Public  advise 
their  friends  that  the  production  is  stupid.  Decreasing 
attendance  may  warn  the  manager  that  something  is 
lacking:  but  what?  As  a  criticism,  absence  is  not  very 
illuminating.  Acts  are  changed,  cablegrams  written 
and  lines  rewritten,  this  man  discharged,  a  woman 
rushed  over  from  Paris.  And  when  all  is  said  and  done, 
the  performance  perhaps  continues  to  emphasise  fea- 
tures that  were  the  cause  of  bad  impressions.  For  this 
confusion,  the  audiences  are  at  least  equally  to  blame 
with  the  manager.  They  owe  it  to  themselves  as  well 
as  to  others  to  express  themselves  frankly. 

Exactly  what  grade  of  dancing  this  intermediate  pub- 
lic really  wants  is  an  unsettled  question — and  one  of 
paramount  importance,  since  it  involves  a  good  part 
of  the  potential  support  of  good  things.  Managers  in- 
fer, each  according  to  his  own  disposition;  and  there 
is  rarely  material  for  the  formation  of  inferences  in 
any  way  exact.     For  one  reason  or  another,  no  under- 


3o6  THE  DANCE 

taking  serves  the  purpose  of  exact  experiment;  experi- 
ence does  not  lead  to  any  unavoidable  conclusion.  A  few 
wholly  good  ballet  productions  have  been  given  in  the 
Untied  States  during  the  past  few  years ;  they  have  not 
been  tremendously  successful,  up  to  the  present,  from 
the  point  of  view  of  profits.  The  optimist,  however, 
counts  even  small  profits  a  success,  in  the  circum- 
stances. Here  is  an  art  that  employs  a  language  prac- 
tically unknown  to  this  country;  yet  it  has  not  failed 
to  impress.  But  the  men  who  risked  the  money  take 
another  view  of  it.  They  consider  that  they  have  had 
a  narrow  escape  from  disaster,  that  the  profits  are  not 
commensurate  with  the  risks,  and  that  they  are  well  out 
of  a  bad  affair.  Augustin  Daly,  at  the  time  of  his 
death,  was  engaged  in  a  course  of  instructing  the  public 
in  the  appreciation  of  pantomime,  expecting  to  lose 
money  on  it  for  two  or  three  consecutive  years.  But  the 
present  moment  reveals  no  Augustin  Daly  among  the 
potential  managers  of  dancing  in  America.  Few  are 
willing  to  plant  seed  for  a  harvest  long  deferred.  And 
in  justice  be  it  added  that  the  equipment  and  mainte- 
nance of  Pygmalion  and  Galatea  or  U Enfant  Prodigue, 
the  vehicles  of  Mr.  Daly's  missionary  efforts  in  the  in- 
terests of  pantomime,  would  be  a  small  fraction  of  the 
expenses  attaching  to  a  first-class  production  of  any  of 
the  great  mimetic  ballets. 

The  situation  is,  in  all  essentials,  the  same  as  that 
through  which  operatic  and  orchestral  music  passed  a 
few  years  ago.  Music  lovers  put  their  favoured  art 
on  a  substantial  basis  by  means  of  endowments.  Any 
other  course  in  relation  to  the  ballet  results  in  a  matter 
of  probabilities  and  possibilities,  but  not  of  certainties. 
The  present  interest  in  dancing,  left  to  itself,  may  lead 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  307 

to  great  things.  Or  it  may  lead  to  nothing  at  all.  The 
renaissance  of  interest  that  followed  the  Kiralfy  suc- 
cesses in  the  sixties  and  seventies  was  killed  by  counter- 
feits.    The  same  hostile  possibilities  exist  at  present. 

The  above-indicated  dependence  of  the  dance  on  its 
ability  to  show  immediate  profits  is  only  the  first  of  its 
handicaps.  That  difficulty  would  not  be  light,  even 
though  every  manager  viewed  conditions  clearly  and 
fairly,  as  some  of  them  do.  Unfortunately,  however, 
there  is  in  the  profession  a  class  that  has  succeeded  be- 
cause of,  or  in  spite  of,  a  belief  that  good  taste  does  not 
exist  in  America.  To  prove  this,  they  shape  every  oc- 
currence into  an  argument.  In  gathering  "names"  for 
the  interest  of  their  advertising,  they  engage  a  certain 
number  of  capable  artists.  If  the  productions  employ- 
ing these  artists  succeed,  the  cynical  manager  will  con- 
strue such  success  as  proof  of  American  worship  of 
reputation,  and  its  power  to  blind  him  to  a  mess  of  ac- 
companying mediocrity.  If,  on  the  contrary,  failure  at- 
tend the  enterprise,  it  proves  American  inability  to 
appreciate  good  work.  For  the  success  of  a  really  good 
work  of  art,  these  pessimists  will  find  any  explanation 
except  that  of  good  work  duly  appreciated.  Skilful 
publicity,  novelty,  a  public  aflfectation  of  good  taste,  the 
employment  of  Oriental  motifs,  any  theory,  so  long  as 
it  acknowledges  no  taste  superior  to  their  own.  These 
are  the  people  who,  if  Madame  Pavlowa's  present  tour, 
for  instance,  makes  a  striking  financial  success,  will  in- 
undate the  country  with  pseudo-Russian  ballets,  per- 
verting everything,  unable  to  see  the  need  of  beauty  and 
artistry,  bringing  all  dancing  into  disrepute. 

Let  it  be  clearly  understood :  these  people  by  no  means 
represent  the  manager's  profession.     But  they  are  to 


3o8  THE  DANCE 

an  extent  in  control  of  the  situation,  and  the  person  who 
wants  to  see  dancing  is  more  or  less  dependent  on  them 
as  the  source  of  supply.  In  the  absence  of  any  endowed 
institution,  no  ballet  can  be  seen  except  under  commer- 
cial management — and,  as  noted,  commercial  manage- 
ment that  cannot  or  will  not  knowingly  invest  in  an 
enterprise  that  is  going  to  require  time  to  be  understood. 

The  manager  desirous  of  staging  a  work  of  genuine 
choreographic  quality  finds  himself  confronted  by  a  dis- 
couraging scarcity  of  even  semicompetent  material  for 
his  ballet — that  is,  here  in  America.  To  bring  a  corps 
de  ballet  from  Europe,  with  guarantees  covering  a  mini- 
mum number  of  weeks  of  work,  transportation  both 
ways,  and  other  proper  and  just  requirements,  is  com- 
mercially dangerous.  No  reasonable  blame  can  be  at- 
tached to  the  usual  course  of  engaging  such  girls  as  are 
easily  available,  fitting  steps  to  their  limitations,  insist- 
ing on  the  girls  and  evading  the  dance,  and  making 
much  of  draperies  and  coloured  lights. 

As  a  direct  result  of  the  scarcity  of  capable  ballet 
people,  dance-lovers  not  infrequently  lose  the  services 
of  a  rare  artist.  No  one  artist  can  give  a  satisfying 
two-hour  public  performance  of  dancing.  Saying  noth- 
ing of  variety  as  a  desideratum  in  a  programme,  the 
question  of  physical  endurance  enters.  To  rest  the 
premiere  between  her  flights,  a  corps  de  ballet  is  indis- 
pensable. Without  the  latter,  the  former  is  to  be  com- 
pared to  a  commander  without  an  army.  But  the  par- 
ticular case  illustrates,  where  general  statement  only 
explains. 

On  the  face  of  things.  Miss  Lydia  Lopoukowa's  de- 
termination to  take  up  residence  in  the  United  States 
would  seem  to  mean  that  American  dance-lovers  might 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  309 

count  on  her  art  as  a  definite  acquisition.  After  her 
season  with  Mordkin,  the  young  woman  accepted  a  posi- 
tion as  premiere  of  a  ballet,  as  good  as  can  be  made  from 
native  material.  A  divertissement  is  composed  that 
pleases  public  and  management,  and  all  concerned  ex- 
cept the  premiere  herself.  She  finds  her  work  circum- 
scribed by  the  necessity  of  keeping  down  to  a  pitch  be- 
yond which  the  support  cannot  rise.  That  the  public 
is  pleased  is  not  sufficient;  with  unrestricted  self-ex- 
pression, and  freedom  of  flight,  she  could  bring  that 
public  to  a  point  of  enthusiasm.  Her  art  is  belittled, 
and  she  finds  herself  in  a  false  position.  As  soon  as 
contracts  permit,  she  withdraws  her  energies  from  the 
efifort  to  accomplish  good  in  that  direction.  So,  for 
the  lack  of  a  competent  ballet,  the  dance-loving  portion 
of  the  population  is  robbed.  As  to  Miss  Lopoukowa, 
she  has  a  taste  for  and  demonstrated  ability  in  the 
drama.  Dancing  will  give  her  extraordinary  distinc- 
tion in  plays  that  admit  its  union  with  the  dramatic  ac- 
tion. But  under  better  conditions,  her  dancing  need 
not  have  been  subordinated  to  another  art. 

At  this  point  a  question  might  justly  be  raised  as  to 
whether  the  interests  of  the  ballet  are  not  being  ade- 
quately cared  for  by  some  of  the  great  opera  companies. 
To  such  possible  question  the  only  answer  is  negative. 
Nor  are  the  companies  chargeable  with  any  neglect  or 
shortcoming  in  not  giving  their  ballet  departments  the 
relative  importance  of  ballet  in  European  opera  organ- 
isations. The  task  of  popularising  great  music  alone 
has  been  somewhat  more  than  a  labour  of  Hercules. 
Opera  as  music  now  has  a  supporting  patronage;  to 
change  the  ballet's  relative  importance  would  be  dis- 
turbing, in  all  probability.     Moreover,  the  Metropolitan 


310  THE  DANCE 

(if  not  the  others)  has  done  all  that  is  humanly  possible 
under  present  conditions,  with  the  principal  result  of 
demonstrating  that  those  conditions  are  to  be  met  by  a 
ballet  institution,  and  nothing  less. 

At  the  time  of  the  Metropolitan's  organisation,  it  will 
be  remembered,  the  world's  interest  in  ballet  dancing 
was  at  a  lower  pitch  than  it  ever  had  been  since  the  dis- 
solution of  the  Roman  Empire ;  that  is,  about  the  middle 
of  the  Victorian  period.  Had  the  undertaking  been  no 
more  than  that  of  producing  opera  in  a  land  already 
friendly  to  it,  it  would  have  been  no  more  than  natural 
if  the  Metropolitan  directors  had  accepted  the  ballet's 
status  as  they  found  it  in  England.  Their  task  being, 
however,  the  production  of  opera  in  a  country  almost 
hostile  to  it,  a  failure  to  simplify  the  problem  in  every 
possible  way  would  have  been  bad  generalship. 

Not  finding  itself  expected  to  take  rank  with  the  bal- 
lets of  other  great  opera  organisations,  the  Metropoli- 
tan's department  of  dancing  has  gone  its  comfortable 
gait.  It  has  been  under  the  direction  of  excellent  ballet- 
masters;  but  they  become  easy-going,  especially  after 
proving  to  themselves  that  girls  cannot  successfully  be 
asked  to  perform  steps  for  which  they  lack  the  founda- 
tion of  training.  To  other  mollifying  influences  is 
added  that  of  a  slippery  floor  in  the  room  dedicated  to 
ballet  rehearsal ;  a  room  so  beautiful  and  a  floor  so  per- 
fect that  to  resin  it  would  be  a  desecration.  The  dan- 
cers, in  fear  for  the  intactness  of  their  bones,  walk 
through  their  numbers  as  best  they  can,  and  ultimately 
perform  them  in  a  manner  consistent  with  rehearsals. 

As  a  step  toward  relieving  the  scarcity  of  ballet  peo- 
ple, the  Metropolitan  founded,  about  five  years  ago,  a 
ballet  school — an  enterprise  from  which,  up  to  the  pres- 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  311 

ent,  the  pupils  have  rather  monopoHsed  the  material 
profits.  The  arrangement  between  management  and 
pupil  is,  in  brief,  that  the  pupil  shall  remain  under  the 
school's  (free)  tuition  four  years,  at  the  end  of  which 
period  the  Opera  has  an  option  on  her  services  for  three 
years,  at  a  salary  of  twenty  dollars  a  week,  a  little  more 
or  less.  If  she  appears  in  the  corps  de  ballet  during 
her  period  of  study,  she  is  paid  proportionately.  The 
school  work  occupies  two  hours  per  day,  about  nine 
months  of  the  year.  The  atmosphere  of  both  school 
and  Opera  is  wholesome  and  good ;  no  fault  can  be  found 
with  the  arrangement  on  a  basis  of  fairness;  but  the 
number  of  individuals  the  school  has  added  to  the 
Opera's  ballet  is  shockingly  small.  Every  revue,  musi- 
cal comedy,  and  other  light  musical  production  includes 
a  collection  of  young  women  called  a  ballet;  and  each 
year  of  increased  general  intelligence  in  dancing  mat- 
ters adds  to  the  desirability  that  these  ballets  should 
justify  the  name.  The  pretty  girl,  plus  coloured  lights, 
drapery,  and  lively  cavorting,  no  longer  constitutes  a 
perfectly  secure  grip  on  public  approval  (except  always 
in  burlesque,  with  which  we  are  not  concerned).  The 
result  is  an  insatiable  demand  for  girls  who  can  even 
half  dance.  And  that  demand,  in  its  turn,  is  a  steady 
drain  on  the  Opera's  school.  Before  she  has  studied 
two  years,  a  girl  can  qualify  for  a  position  in  an  outside 
concern — a  condition  of  which  she  never  remains  in 
ignorance  very  long.  She  thinks  it  over.  Two  years 
more  work  in  the  school  would  insure  her  a  position  in 
the  Opera,  at  weekly  pay  no  greater  than  the  present 
offer,  for  a  comparatively  short  season  each  year. 
Now,  if  the  Metropolitan  ballet  had  great  prestige  as  a 
choreographic  organisation — a  prestige  like  that  of  the 


312  THE  DANCE 

Russian  ballet,  for  instance — its  more  capable  members 
would  be  sought  after  as  teachers.  A  connection  with 
it  would  confer  artistic  honour  and  material  profit.  Un- 
fortunately, such  prestige  is  one  of  the  elements  that  are 
lacking.  In  resume:  continuance  with  the  school  in- 
sures employment  for  about  half  of  every  year,  begin- 
ning at  a  later  time,  with  the  chances  of  advancement 
almost  zero.  Whereas,  musical  comedy  and  the  like 
offer  the  probability  of  employment  the  year  round, 
minus  the  time  of  rehearsing  new  productions.  Present 
profits  are  more  attractive  than  the  deferred  kind ;  and, 
a  consideration  by  no  means  unimportant,  a  pretty  face 
and  a  pleasing  manner  are  reasonable  grounds  on  which 
to  hope  for  a  "part."  Her  contract?  The  young  girl 
of  the  present  generation  has  had  her  own  way  about 
everything  since  the  hour  of  her  birth.  Experience 
teaches  her  that  the  worst  penalty  reasonably  to  be  ex- 
pected is  a  harmless  reproof,  soon  ended.  And  her 
experience  is  a  true  guide  in  this  case.  As  a  matter  of 
sentiment,  no  one  likes  to  oppose  the  wishes  of  a  girl. 
As  a  matter  of  business,  it  would  be  of  doubtful  ad- 
vantage for  the  opera  company  to  take  legal  steps  to 
enjoin  its  contract-breaking  pupils  from  appearing  in 
other  concerns.  Happenings  connected  with  opera  and 
the  theatres  have  a  high  value  in  the  newspapers;  no 
motive  is  more  popular  than  that  of  the  persecution  of 
the  poor  but  beautiful  girl;  the  publicity  force  of  the 
musical  comedy  employing  said  girl  would  busy  itself 
creating  for  her  the  role  of  victim.  The  opera  man- 
agement would  find  difficulty  in  securing  a  true  and 
therefore  comparatively  uninteresting  public  statement 
of  its  case;  indeed,  it  would  be  likely  to  be  made  to 
appear,  in  the  eyes  of  the  multitude,  as  a  sort  of  ogre. 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  313 

The  Metropolitan  school  furnishes  a  complete  and 
conclusive  test  of  the  possibilities  of  an  opera  organisa- 
tion, as  such,  in  the  province  of  dancing.  But  even 
if  the  Metropolitan  ballet  were  right  now  at  the  high- 
est conceivable  pitch  of  perfection,  a  radical  change  of 
policy  would  be  necessary  as  a  preliminary  to  giving  the 
school  its  proper  power  to  hold  its  pupils'  allegiance. 
That  is  to  say,  the  opportunity  to  appear  in  an  occa- 
sional divertissement  is  not  sufficient  to  hold  an  ambi- 
tious and  capable  young  man  or  woman  through  long 
years  of  study.  In  St.  Petersburg,  the  Imperial  Opera 
House  dedicates  two  nights  a  week  to  mimetic  ballet. 
The  dancers'  art  on  those  occasions  is  subordinate  to 
none.  The  dance  is  the  thing;  and  the  dancers,  ac- 
cording to  ability,  are  given  the  opportunity  to  inter- 
pret character  and  motive.  In  short,  they  are  given 
the  opportunity  to  express  their  art  as  individuals. 

Now,  one  or  another  of  the  American  opera  com- 
panies might  be  willing  and  able  to  duplicate  the  above 
conditions — conditions  without  whose  aid  no  ballet 
reaches  a  high  plane  of  development.  The  undertak- 
ing, however,  would  have  at  least  twice  the  weight  of 
the  administration  of  either  ballet  or  opera  alone;  it 
would  be  accompanied,  too,  by  a  risk  that  the  twofold 
interest  would  result  in  confusing  or  displeasing  a  por- 
tion of  the  music-lovers  who  constitute  opera's  support. 
The  creation,  development  and  maintenance  of  stand- 
ards of  a  great  ballet  is  a  combined  task  and  opportunity 
for  dance-lovers  themselves,  and  an  end  to  be  reached 
through  the  medium  of  a  ballet  institution.  It  may  be 
added  that  the  Russian  regime  puts  music  and  ballet 
under  the  charge  of  two  distinct  and  separate  institu- 
tions. 


314  THE  DANCE 

Opera  companies  whose  traditions  have  been  formed 
during  recent  years  have  naturally  felt  the  force  of  the 
renaissance  of  dancing;  they  have  invested  their  ballets 
with  an  importance  that  would  have  been  considered  dis- 
proportionate if  their  formative  period  had  coincided 
with  the  mid-Victorian  period.  The  Philadelphia-Chi- 
cago company  has  had  a  better  corps  de  ballet  than  could 
logically  be  expected  in  view  of  the  limitations  of  Amer- 
ican material ;  credit  is  due  Sr.  Luigi  Albertieri,  the  bal- 
let-master. As  premiere  danseiise  the  same  company 
for  some  years  has  had  Signorina  Rosina  Galli,  a  de- 
Hghtful  little  product  of  la  Scala.  In  19 13  Sr.  Alber- 
tieri took  the  post  of  ballet-master  of  the  new  Century 
Opera  Company,  with  Miss  Albertina  Rasch,  formerly 
of  the  Vienna  opera,  as  premiere.  The  public's  readi- 
ness to  recognise  good  work  was  demonstrated  during 
the  Century's  first  presentation  of  The  Jewels  of  the 
Madonna.  After  the  act  in  which  the  Tarantella  is 
danced,  the  audience  demanded  that  Miss  Rasch  re- 
spond, with  the  two  principal  singers,  to  the  curtain- 
calls. 

In  Canada,  the  influence  of  the  times  may  be  noted 
in  the  Canadian  Royal  Opera  Company's  engagement 
of  Madame  Pavlowa  and  her  company  to  provide  the 
ballet  portion  of  eight  performances.  Of  present  in- 
terest in  the  dance  throughout  North  America,  there 
is  no  manner  of  doubt.  It  is  perfectly  clear  that  ap- 
preciation of  choreographic  beauty  and  discernment  of 
skill  are  rapidly  advancing.  London  has  shown  its  ca- 
pacity to  support  four  great  ballet  attractions  through 
the  same  season,  and  that  a  long  one ;  the  United  States 
is  influenced  by  England's  taste  in  entertainment. 
Dancing  exhibitions  and  pageants  are  now  a  part  of  the 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  315 

entertainments  of  smart  society.  A  masque  produced 
by  Mrs.  Hawkesworth,  in  one  of  the  private  gardens 
of  Newport,  was  of  a  nature  to  recall  the  historic  fes- 
tivals of  Catherine  de  Medici.  And  the  nation's  taste 
in  entertainment  is  influenced  by  smart  society.  All 
signs  point  to  a  continued  and  even  growing  interest 
in  dancing.  And  it  is  possible,  without  other  aid  or 
guidance  than  that  interest  in  dancing  in  general,  that 
dancing  as  a  great  art,  an  art  of  deep  emotional  in- 
terpretation, will  take  its  proper  place  in  this  land.  But, 
with  the  multitude  of  forces  of  vulgarity,  get-rich-quick 
commercialism,  and  heedlessness  opposed  to  it,  it  is 
doubtful.  At  the  present  moment,  the  high  art  of 
dancing  is  pleasing,  and  its  emotional  message  partly 
comprehended.  If  it  were  fully  comprehended,  that 
art  would  be  an  indispensable  source  of  refreshment  to 
the  American  mind.  Consistently  repeated  for  a  few 
years,  its  idiom  would  be  familiar  to  a  large  part  of  the 
population.  The  conditions  which  this  chapter  has  an- 
alysed show,  however,  that  the  sufficient  and  adequate 
repetition  of  ballet  drama  is  by  no  means  certain.  And 
this  chapter's  motive  is  to  emphasise  two  things:  first, 
if  American  lovers  of  dancing  wish  to  insure  for  them- 
selves the  continuous  opportunity  to  see  fine  representa- 
tions of  that  art,  they  must  found  a  ballet,  and  an  acad- 
emy upon  which  it  may  depend  for  its  artists;  second, 
for  such  a  step  no  time  can  be  more  propitious  than  the 
present. 

If  the  vision  of  an  endowed  ballet  institution  in  the 
United  States  seems  lacking  on  the  practical  side,  it  is 
not  amiss  to  recall  a  few  facts  of  American  history  in 
its  relation  to  music — than  whose  ambitions  of  yester- 
day nothing  was  thought  to  be  less  practical.     Thirty 


3i6  THE  DANCE 

years  ago  the  attitude  of  the  United  States  (particu- 
larly the  West)  toward  classical  music  was  less  indiffer- 
ent than  scornful.  To  confess  a  liking  for  orchestral 
or  operatic  compositions  was  to  brand  oneself  as  queer. 
Anything  connected  with  music  or  musicians  was  deemed 
a  fair  mark  for  newspaper  jokers;  and  they  knew  their 
readers.  Inevitably,  organisations  that  ventured  a  tour 
did  so  at  their  financial  peril. 

Individual  singers  and  performers  were  protected 
somewhat  by  their  lesser  expenses  and  their  prepared- 
ness to  render  popular  ballads;  but  they  too  knew  well 
the  look  of  empty  benches. 

Theodore  Thomas  pointed  out  to  a  group  of  Chicago 
people  that  never,  under  such  conditions,  would  the 
adequate  performance  of  great  works  be  other  than  at 
rare  and  uncertain  times;  that,  without  fairly  frequent 
hearing  of  those  great  works,  public  taste  never  would 
improve.  Obviously,  the  programmes  that  Mr.  Thomas 
proposed  to  give,  and  the  manner  and  frequency  with 
which  he  proposed  to  give  them,  brought  up  the  pro- 
phetic vision  of  considerable  money  loss;  but  the  funds 
were  subscribed.  The  result  is  the  Chicago  Orchestra: 
a  source  of  unending  happiness  to  lovers  of  good  music, 
just  pride  to  the  city,  and  material  benefit  in  no  slight 
degree.  Chicago  finds  itself  the  place  of  residence  of 
several  thousand  music  students,  and  a  centre  of  at- 
traction for  many  more  thousands  of  occasional  pil- 
grims to  the  Orchestra's  concerts.  Lastly,  as  though 
to  show  that  idealism  is  not  the  idle  dissipation  that  it 
seems,  the  Orchestra  was  reported  several  years  ago 
to  have  reached  a  basis  of  self-support. 

The  same  history  has  been  virtually  duplicated  in  per- 
haps a  score  of  cities,  needless  to  enumerate.     Even 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  317 

"practical"  people  admit  that  most  of  the  orchestras  so 
endowed,  though  they  may  have  passed  through  a  pe- 
riod of  begging  people  to  accept  passes  to  concerts,  are 
now  paying  their  own  expenses.  The  general  history 
of  the  Metropolitan  Opera  has  already  been  outlined. 
Opera  in  other  cities  has  gone  through  much  the  same 
train  of  events,  slowly  changing  indifference  to  in- 
terest, and  having  now  arrived  at  the  stage  of  inde- 
pendence made  possible  by  a  demand  that  grows  stead- 
ily in  volume  and  intelligence.  The  number  of  per- 
formances in  each  city  shows  a  consistent  annual 
growth. 

Certainly  the  taste  for  dancing  of  a  high  class  is  no 
less  worthy  of  indulgence  and  cultivation  than  the  taste 
for  the  sister  art  of  music.  If  music's  dependence  upon 
endowment  was  once  more  evident  than  is  that  of  dan- 
cing now,  then  so  much  less  is  the  difficulty  of  financing 
a  ballet  institution;  proportionately  less,  too,  are  the 
hazards  and  delays  to  be  undergone  before  the  institu- 
tion arrives  at  a  paying  basis. 

For  the  organisation  and  conduct  of  such  an  institu- 
tion, the  Russian  ballet  and  Academy  supplies  a  model 
that  could  be  followed  in  most  details.  American  senti- 
ment probably  would  rebel  at  so  complete  a  separation 
of  children  from  parents  as  the  Imperial  Academy  re- 
quires; but  a  less  complete  separation  would  not  neces- 
sarily be  detrimental  to  results.  For  actual  technical 
work  in  dancing,  plastic  gymnastics,  pantomime,  music 
and  other  courses  more  than  a  few  hours  a  day  would 
be  beyond  the  strength  of  very  young  pupils,  leaving 
half  of  each  day  to  attend  common  school.  As  the  pu- 
pil advances,  his  hours  per  day  in  the  academy  could 
increase;  he  could  acquire  general  education  after  his 


3i8  THE  DANCE 

technical  education  is  accomplished  with  just  as  good 
results  as  accompany  the  present  reversal  of  that  se- 
quence. 

The  weak  spot  that  appears  in  the  plan  is  the  pos- 
sible interference  of  parents  with  the  school's  discipline. 
The  training  of  a  dancer  involves  hard  work  and  a  great 
deal  of  it.  Although  the  work  be  demonstrably  bene- 
ficial in  all  ways,  the  American  parents'  attitude  toward 
that  work  and  the  accompanying  discipline  would  be 
the  question  to  be  settled.  Boys,  to  be  sure,  are  sent 
sometimes  at  an  early  age  to  military  schools,  and  there 
brought  up  under  a  more  or  less  exact  regime.  But 
public  sentiment  favours  the  indulgence  of  the  girl  in 
all  her  wishes.  It  would  be  a  matter  requiring  adjust- 
ment, and  probably  susceptible  of  adjustment.  Far 
greater  difficulties  have  been  overcome. 

Against  the  prevailing  tendency  to  abandon  the  train- 
ing in  order  to  accept  outside  engagements,  by  which 
the  Metropolitan  Opera  School  of  Ballet  has  been  too 
often  victimised,  the  academy  could  protect  itself  by 
requiring  each  pupil  to  file  a  bond  as  a  condition  of 
entrance,  the  amount  to  be  forfeited  if  the  pupil  violates 
his  agreement.  Questions  of  payment,  ranking  of  per- 
formers, amount  of  pensions  and  the  like  are  details 
needless  to  consider  in  the  general  plan. 

Proper  equipment  would  represent  a  considerable  ex- 
penditure: a  modern  theatre,  or  the  liberal  use  of  one; 
drill  halls,  music  rooms,  gymnasium,  baths,  etc.  As 
to  instructors,  the  right  kind  are  available.  At  the  out- 
set, ballet-master  and  most  of  the  dancers  would  have 
to  be  engaged  from  outside,  their  number  decreasing  as 
the  school's  products  reached  the  proficiency  to  take 
their  places.     The  employment,  at  the  beginning,  of 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  319 

finished  dancers,  would  be  of  advantage  in  establish- 
ing standards  for  students.  Scenery,  costumes  and  or- 
chestra are  to  be  had  at  the  cost  of  thought  and  money. 
Medical  and  other  expenses,  taxes,  etc.,  are  minor  con- 
siderations. Now  to  returns.  In  considering  which, 
it  is  understood  that  such  an  undertaking  may  not  make 
expenses  at  first.  But  it  is  not  impossible  that  good 
management  should  reduce  the  losing  years  to  a  very 
small  number. 

Assuming  (say)  thirty  performances  in  the  home 
city  during  the  first  year:  the  prestige  of  that  number 
of  performances,  kept  up  to  a  consistent  pitch  of  ex- 
cellence, would  be  nation-wide.  As  a  result  of  that 
prestige,  a  long  tour  and  several  short  ones  would  un- 
doubtedly return  an  excess  over  salaries  and  costs. 
Bear  in  mind  that  a  commercial  undertaking  of  the  sort 
must  figure  on  recouping  a  heavy  initial  expense,  and 
transportation  of  a  company  from  Europe  and  return. 

Special  engagements  of  artists,  in  groups  or  individ- 
ually, would  net  the  institution  a  greater  or  less  part 
of  the  receipts,  according  to  the  terms  of  individual  con- 
tracts. 

Considering  conditions  as  they  are,  and  looking  at 
the  history  of  music  as  a  fair  analogy,  it  would  be  safe 
to  assume  that  local  interest  in  dancing  and  the  mimetic 
ballet  would  increase  steadily  after  the  institution's  first 
year,  increasing  income  proportionately.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  account,  expenses  should  begin  to  decrease 
after  the  third  year.  A  wardrobe  and  a  stock  of  scen- 
ery would  have  been  accumulated,  their  cost  reduced 
to  upkeep  and  occasional  additions.  More  important, 
pupils  by  that  time  would  begin  to  qualify  for  the  ballet, 
decreasing  the  pay-roll  of  European  dancers.    In  eight 


320  THE  DANCE 

years,  if  the  institution  has  been  reasonably  fortunate, 
it  should  have  a  ballet  recruited  principally  from  its 
own  school.  These  alumni,  of  whatever  grade,  it  would 
have  at  low  salaries;  salaries  at  the  same  time  satis- 
factory to  the  recipients,  whose  popularity  as  private 
teachers  would  be  about  in  ratio  to  the  quality  of  work 
with  which  they  identified  themselves  in  performances. 
Stated  hours  of  exemption  from  duties  connected  with 
the  ballet  and  the  school  would  open  the  way  to  such 
extra  revenue.  The  pay  of  the  premiere  danseuse  of 
rOpera  of  Paris  is  small,  in  relation  to  the  require- 
ments of  her  position;  but  teaching  and  outside  per- 
formances are  said  to  yield  her  a  comfortable  income. 

Pension  payments  would  represent  a  loss  more  ap- 
parent than  real,  since  many  pensioners  could,  with  ad- 
justments, serve  as  teachers  and  aides  in  various  ca- 
pacities. 

So  far  as  can  be  learned,  the  foregoing  covers  the 
principal  elements  of  expense  and  possibilities  of  rev- 
enue. The  difficulties  would  be  heavy,  but  less  so  than 
those  that  have  been  met  and  overcome.  The  ballet 
institution,  achieved,  would  be  a  contribution  to  the 
fine  arts  no  less  glorious  than  any  this  country  has  yet 
received,  an  organism  whose  service  to  broad  aesthetic 
cultivation  has  been  equalled  by  few. 

On  the  score  of  both  public  education  and  its  cor- 
relative, the  steady  increase  of  the  ballet's  earnings,  too 
much  emphasis  cannot  be  laid  on  the  advantage  the 
institution  would  have  in  its  facilities  for  repeating 
great  works  at  frequent  intervals.  We  have  seen  how 
ground  gained  by  the  first  Russian  season  in  America 
was  partly  lost,  through  conditions  that  made  it  impos- 
sible to  follow  up  victories.     The  choreographic  idiom 


A  LAYMAN'S  ESTIMATE  321 

once  understood  in  its  fulness,  and  its  public  having 
found  itself,  the  changes  of  fashion  in  popular  taste 
would  be  powerless  to  affect  the  dignified  status  of  the 
art.  Under  commercial  conditions,  let  the  general  level 
of  taste  sag,  or  appear  to  sag,  and  fine  expression  is  no 
more.  The  thousands  who  have  half  learned  to  love 
the  good  give  it  up,  and  revert  to  the  mediocre;  while 
those  who  are  wholly  in  syrnpathy  with  the  good  say 
nothing,  stay  away  from  the  theatre,  and  are  supposed, 
by  managers,  not  to  exist.  Good  taste  never  dies  out ;  it 
only  appears  to.  The  amalgamation  of  the  aristocracy 
of  taste  that  would  be  effected  by  the  proposed  institu- 
tion would,  in  itself,  have  a  tremendous  importance. 
Any  basis  for  computing  the  potential  support  for  good 
and  honest  attractions  would  be  of  the  utmost  advan- 
tage to  their  proprietors.  Disclosures  of  a  substantial 
demand  would  encourage  tours  of  the  best  in  Europe, 
while  a  reliable  measure  of  the  limitations  of  such  de- 
mand would  be  no  less  valuable  as  a  warning  against 
reckless  expense.  Certainly  it  is  to  the  interest  of  the 
art  that  good  attractions  shall  be  materially  profit- 
able. 

As  to  the  thought  of  any  tendency  of  such  an  insti- 
tution to  take  the  practice  of  dancing  away  from  the 
laity,  and  confine  it  to  paid  exhibitions,  the  effect  would 
be  to  the  contrary.  It  would,  however,  make  for  a 
rise  of  standards.  Dancing  clubs  and  pantomime  clubs 
that  a  little  fertilisation  would  bring  to  light  would 
find  in  a  quasi-public  ballet  an  inspiration  and  a  guide; 
and  the  good  to  public  health  and  spirits,  in  the  way  of 
such  clubs  alone,  would  be  pronounced.  Also,  prevalent 
impressions  concerning  the  relationship  between  clever- 
ness, "individuality"  and  genuine  workmanship  would 


322  THE  DANCE 

be  modified,  to  the  betterment  of  what  is  known  as  the 
American  spirit. 

Greek  poets  found  metre  for  their  verses  in  the  tap- 
ping of  feet  on  the  floor.  Since  the  days  of  Gluck  and 
Gretry,  the  ballet  has  been  among  the  foremost  stimuli 
and  guides  in  musical  composition.  Of  late  years,  the 
Russian  ballet's  lift  to  romantic  music  is  a  matter  of 
almost  common  knowledge.  Is  it  a  ballet  that  is 
awaited  as  the  inspiration  of  an  American  school  of 
music?  It  is  not  impossible.  But  that,  and  a  thousand 
other  questions,  are  not  for  present  consideration.  The 
present  issue  is  the  institution  itself. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

LA  DANSE  GRECQUE  ANTIQUE:  Maurice  Emmanuel. — Traces 
the  origin  of  a  number  of  steps  to  ancient  Greece,  by- 
analysis  of  poses  of  dancing,  figures  on  ceramics,  etc. 
Good  explanation  of  ballet  steps.     (French.) 

A  GRAMMAR  OF  THE  ART  OF  DANCING:  FHedrich  Albert 
Zorn. — Explains  a  system  of  choreographic  writing  by 
means  of  symbols  to  indicate  positions  and  movements. 
By  means  (partly)  of  S)TTibols  explains  ballet  steps,  also 
several  ballroom  dances.  Exact  and  complete.  (Writ- 
ten in  German;  translated  into  English  and  other 
languages.) 

l'academie  imperiale  de  musique:  Castil-Blase. — "His- 
toire  litteraire,  musicale,  choreographique,  pittoresque, 
morale,  critique,  facetieuse,  politique  et  galante  de  ce 
theatre."  (From  1645  to  1855.)  Contains  much  history 
and  anecdote  of  Roman  Empire  and  Middle  Ages,  with 
descriptions  of  mediaeval  ambulatory  ballets,  etc. 
(French.) 

LES  pensees:  /.-/.  Rousseau. — Defends  the  dance  against 
attacks  of  English.  Rare;  frequently  missing  from  (sup- 
posedly) complete  editions  of  the  author.     (French.) 

MEMOIRS  ET  jouRNAUX :  Pierre  de  VEstoile. — A  collection 
of  anecdotes  of  the  court  of  Henry  III.  A  mine  of  in- 
formation and  gossip  in  relation  to  masques,  etc.,  in  the 
period  described.     (French.) 

DES   BALLETS    ANCIENS    ET    MODERNES,    SELON    LES    REGLES   DU 

THEATRE:  Claude  Frangois  Menestrier.  1682. — Author 
was  a  Jesuit  priest.  Book  includes  extensive  list  of  ballets 
produced  in  France  up  to  year  of  its  publication. 

323 


324  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

ORCHESOGRAPHiE :  Thoitiet-Arbeau  (anagram  of  Jean  Tah- 
oiirot).  1589. — Author  was  Canon  of  Langres  and 
Maitre  de  Chapelle  of  Henry  III.  The  first  book  devoted 
to  the  dance.  Comments  on  all  aspects  of  dancing  in 
France  of  his  time.     (French) 

THE  CODE  OF  TERPSICHOTRE. LE  CODE  COMPLEX  DE  LA  DANSE. 

TRAITE      HISTORIQUE      THEORIQUE      ET      PRATIQUE     DE 

l'aRT    DE   LA    DANSE,    DE    LA    PANTOMIME,    DES    BALLETS: 

Carlo  Blasis. — Of  the  three  books  named,  the  first  is  in 
English ;  its  material  is  more  or  less  repeated  in  the  other 
two,  which  are  in  French.  A  standard  for  the  use  of  bal- 
let-masters especially.  Authoritative  on  matters  pertain- 
ing to  ballet  technique,  questionable  on  character  dances, 
wholly  untrustworthy  on  Spanish. 

LETTRES  SUR  LA  DANSE  ET  LES  BALLETS:   M.   Novevre,   ballct- 

master  of  the  Duke  of  Wiirtemburg,  I'Opera  of  Paris, 
and  other  operas,  1760. — Classic.  Author  was  the  pro- 
phet of  and  leader  to  the  modern  ballet.  A  broad  and 
comprehensive  work  on  art,  as  well  as  authoritative  on 
stage  direction,  ballet  technique,  and  history.     (French.) 

DE  LA  SALTATION  THEATRALE :   M.   de  I'Aulfiaye.     1790. 

Dancing  and  pantomime  in  antiquity.  Contains  a  cata- 
logue (thought  by  some  authorities  to  be  complete)  of 
dances  of  ancient  Greece.     (French.) 

DANCING  AND  DANCERS  OF  TODAY :  Caroline  and  Charles  Caf~ 
■fin.  19 1 2. — Special  attention  to  biographies  of  contem- 
porary dancers.     (English.) 

LETTRES  A  SOPHIE  SUR  LA  DANSE:  A.  Bavon.  1825. — His- 
tory, folk-dances  and  balls  of  Middle  Ages.  A  chapter 
is  devoted  to  dancing  of  Hebrews.     (French.) 

LA  DiCTiONNAiRE  DE  LA  DANSE:  G.  Desvat. — Rccent.  Ex- 
tremely useful.  In  dictionary  form  presents  wide  range 
of  information. 

A  HISTORY  OF  DANCING:  G.  VuilUer.  1898. — Translated 
from  original  French  into  English  and  Italian.     Read- 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  325 

able  history  of  the  art  from  antiquity  to  latter  19th  cen- 
^     tury;  many  descriptions  of  early  ballets  and  masques  are 
quoted  from  Menestrier,  De  I'Estoile  and  others. 

MODERN     DANCING    AND      DANCERS!    /.     E.     Crawford    FUtch. 

19 1 2. — History  of  ballet  in  England,  biographical- 
analytical  sketches  of  individuals  of  latter  19th  century, 
details  of  Russian  ballet  in  London.  Delightfully  writ- 
ten.    (EngHsh.) 

TRATADO  DE  BAiLES :  Josc  Otcro,  famous  master  in  Seville. 
19 1 2. — Expression  of  the  spirit  of  Spanish  dancing. 
Much  amusing  reminiscence.     (Spanish.) 

DiCTiONNAiRE  DE  DANSE I  Charles  Compan.  1802. — ^De- 
tailed instructions  in  social  dances  of  the  period. 
(French.) 

Note. — The  above-named  works  are  not  arranged  in  order  either  of 
chronology  or  importance. 


INDEX 


Adagio,  95. 

Albert,  dancer,  109. 

Albertieri,      Luigi,      ballet-master ; 

definition    ballone,    74;     Century 

Opera  Company,  314. 
Alegrias,  Spanish  dance,  134. 
Alexander  VI,  see  Pope. 
Allard,  Mile.,  dancer,  107. 
Allemande,  the,  court  dance,  52. 
Almees,  the,  tribe  of  dancers,  210. 
Anacreon,  8. 
Anderson,    John    Murray,    dancer; 

old    court    dances,     52;     modern 

ball-room  dances,  272-303. 
Animals,  danced  representations  of, 

Anisfeldt,  Boris,  designer  stage 
decorations,  264. 

Anne  of  Austria,  49. 

Antoinette,  Marie,  53. 

Arabesque  (posture),  78. 

Arabs,  dancing  of,  196  et.  seq. 

Arbeau,  Thoinet  (anagram  of  Jehan 
Tabourot),  Canon  of  Langres, 
choreographic  historian.  Ridicules 
opposition  to  dancing,  31.  Hints 
on  deportment,  55.  See  also 
Church. 

Ariosto,  Supposiii,  performance  in 
Vatican,  44. 

Aristides,  8. 

Aristodemus,  dancer  as  ambassador, 
8. 

Ark  of  Covenant ;  see  David. 

Arms,  positions  of,  ballet,  67.  See 
also  Flamenco,  Arabs. 

Artificiality,  charge  of  against  bal- 
let, 62,  63. 

Assemble  (step),  69. 

Attitude,  84. 

Awakening  of  the  Soul,  dance, 
Egyptian,  210,  211. 

Bacchu-ber,  Savoyard  observance, 
186. 

Bacon,  Francis,  composer  of 
masques,  48. 

Bakst,  Leon ;  designer  stage  decora- 
tions,    costumes,     choreographer. 


Compared  to  Noverre,  105.    Part 

in  Romantic  movement,  248. 
Ballet   Academy,   French   National. 

Founded,  49;  Influence,  100. 
Ballet       Academy,        Metropolitan 

Opera,  see  Metropolitan  Opera. 
Ballet  Academy,   Russian  Imperial, 

see  Russian. 
Ballet,  Classic,  its  artistic  function, 

60,  61 ;  89-91,  96.     See  also  Ex- 
pression. 
Ballet  dancers,  effects  of  scarcity  in 

America,   3oiS-3i2. 
Ballet    Theater,    American,    outline 

for  conduct  of,  317-322. 
Ballet    {le)    Comique   de   la   Reine, 

46. 
Ballet  technique,  ballet  steps,  65-97. 
Ballet,  Russian,  see  Russian  Ballet. 
Bolm,  dancer,  247. 
Ballone,  60,  73. 

Baltarazini.     See    Beaujoyeulx. 
Bathyllus,  25  et  seq. 
Battement,  71,  72. 
Beaujoyeulx,  ballet  master,  45. 
Belgium,  dances  of,  182  et  seq. 
Bible,  The;   references  to  dancing, 

5. 

Black  Crook,  The,  231  et.  seq. 

Blasis,  Carlo,  ballet-master,  writer 
on  dancing,  no. 

Bolero,  the,  Spanish  dance,  146, 
148. 

Bolm,  Adolf,  dancer,  248. 

Bonfanti,  Marie,  dancer,  teacher, 
232. 

Boston,  The,  social  dance;  relation 
to  other  social  dances,  272.  Exe- 
cution, 284-288  incl. 

Boston  Dip,  see  Dip. 

Boston   Walts.     See  Boston. 

Boucher,  designed  stage  decora- 
tions, 104. 

Bourree,  la,  French  dance,  52,  54, 
183. 

Branle,  family  of  dances ;  B.  du 
Haut  Barrois,  B.  des  Lavandicres, 
B.  des  Ermites,  B.  des  Flam- 
beaux, 55. 


327 


328 


INDEX 


Brise  (step),  73, 

Brunelleschi,  stage  decorations,  44. 
Bulerias,  Snanisn  dance,  134. 
Burlesque,  229. 

Cabriole,  72. 

Cachucha,  the,  Spanish  dance,   iii, 

140. 
Canadian    Royal    Opera    Company, 

ballet,  314. 
Camargo,  dancer,  50  et  seq.    Place 

in   art,   59  et  seq.    Influence   on 

costume,    100.    Quality  of   work, 

107. 
Can-Can,     The,    dance     of     Mont- 

martre,  229. 
Cansino,   Antonio,   teacher,    124. 
Cansino,  Elisa,  dancer,  135. 
Cansino,  Eduardo,  dancer,  observer 

of  work  of  Gipsies,  126,   134. 
Carmencita,  dancer,  139.    Influence 

in  America,  239. 
Carnaval,  le,  ballet  drama,  268. 
Caryatis,  dance.    Sacred  to  Diana, 

Castanets,  Spanish  use  of,  131,  147, 

148,  151,  152. 
Castle,     Mr.     and     Mrs.     Vernon, 

dancers,  277. 
Castle  Walk,  see  Castle. 
Caucasus,  The,  dancing  in,  217. 
Cavallazi,  Malvina,  preface. 
Cecca,  stage  decorations,  44. 
Ceccetti,   E.,  ballet-master,  teacher, 

74,  89.       , 

Cerezo,  teacher,  146. 

Cerito,  Fanny,  dancer,   118. 

Chaconne,  the,  court  dance,  52,  55. 

Changement  (step),  69. 

Chaplin,  Nellie,  reviver  of  old 
English  dances,  teacher,  173. 
Opinion  concerning  ball-room 
dancing  of  to-day,  303. 

Characteristic  dancing,  contribution 
to  ballet,  53. 

Charles  I,  King  of  England,  48. 

Chasse,  68. 

China,  dancing  in,  224. 

Chirinski-Chichmatoff,  Princess, 
dancer ;  defines  characteristic 
dancing,  193.  Russian  Court 
Dance,  195.  Dancing  in  the  Cau- 
casus, 217. 

Church,  the  Christian,  St.  Basil  at- 
tributes dancing  to  angels,  Em- 
peror Julian  reproved  by  St. 
Gregory,  30.  Canon  of  Langres 
ridicules    opposition    to    dancing, 


31.  Mozarabic  mass,  St.  Isidore, 

32.  Abuses  complained  of,  2i2- 
Anecdote  of  the  Fandango,  141. 
Lerida  Cathedral,  Seville  Cathe- 
dral, 142.     Scotland,  167. 

Church,  the  Christian,  relation  to 
dancing,  see  also  Pope. 

Cicero,  27. 

Ciociara,  the,  Italian  dance,  162. 

Clayton,  Bessie,  dancer,  93. 

Cleopatre,  ballet  drama,  266. 

Cobblers'  Dance,  the,  Swedish,  182. 

Cobra  Dance  (India),  220. 

Coles,  Miss  Cowper,  reviver  of  old 
English  dances,  teacher,  173. 

Collins,  Lottie,  dancer,  230. 

Columbina,  157. 

Composition  (choreographic,  gen- 
eral principles,  89,  90,  91.  Nov- 
erre's  influences,  105.  Arabic,  196 
et  seq,  204.  Fokine  (hypotheti- 
cal example),  264.  See  also  Ex- 
pression. 

Contredanse,  type  of  dance,  184. 

Coopers,  Munich's  dance  of,  186. 

Cordax,  Ancient  Greek  dance,  20. 

Corybantes,  taught  mankind,  to 
dance,  7. 

Coppini,  Ettore,  dancer,  ballet- 
master,  233. 

Corte,  the,  figure  of  Argentine 
Tango,  295. 

Cossack  Dance,  the,  Russian,  190. 

Cou-de-pied,  sur  le,   see  Pirouette. 

Counter-time,  Spanish  use  of,  126, 
130. 

Country  dance,  see  Contredanse, 

Coupe,  68. 

Courante,  the,  court  dance,  52,  56. 

Court  Dances,  seventeenth  century, 
52  et  seq.  Influence  on  modern 
ball-room  dances,  303. 

Crawford,  Margaret,  53,  169. 

Cybele.     See  Corybantes. 

Csardas,  the,  Hungarian  dance,  190, 
192. 

Daldans,  the,  S^yedish  dance,  182. 

Danse  caracteristique,  la.  See 
characteristic  dancing. 

Dauberval,  dancer,  108. 

da  _  Vinci,  Leonardo,  stage  decora- 
tions, 44. 

David,  danced  before  Ark  of  Cove- 
nant, 5. 

de  Botta,  Bergonzio,  ballet  masque, 
37  et  seq. 

de  Medici,  Catherine,    Place  in  his- 


INDEX 


329 


tory  of  ballet,  44;  organizer  of, 
performer  in,  grand  ballet,  46. 

de  Medici,  Lorenzo,  45. 

Decoration,  analogy  to  dance,  p.  2 
of  preface,  96,  97»  98.  Arabic, 
196  et  seq.  Egyptian,  209,  212. 
See  also  Composition ;  Bakst. 

de  Stael,  Madame,  appreciation  of 
Tarantella,  160. 

de  Valois,  Marguerite,  54. 

del  Sarto,  Andrea,  stage  decora- 
tions, 44. 

Dervishes  (Whirling),  90,  216.  See 
also  Religions,  non-Christian. 

Developpe,  84. 

Diagilew,  Sergius,  manager,  251, 
252. 

Dieu  {le)  Bleu,  ballet  drama,  268. 

Dionysia,  dances,  sacred  to  Bac- 
chus, 13. 

Dip:  the;  of  One-Step,  278;  of 
Boston,  285,  286,  287. 

Duncan,  Isadora,  dancer.  Source 
of  inspiration,  1 1.  Her  artistic 
beliefs,  241  et  seq.;  early  career, 
243  et  seq.;  influence  on  ballet, 
246.  See  also  Russian  Ballet; 
Expression. 

ficHAPPE,  70. 

Egypt,  Ancient,  dancing  in,  ^. 

Egypt,  latter-day,  dancing  m,  209 
et  seq. 

Eggs,  Dance  of  (India),  220. 

Eight,  the,  figure  of  One-Step,  279. 

Elevation,  defined,  75. 

Elizabeth,  Queen  of  England,  48. 

Ellsler,  Fanny,  dancer,  no  et  seq. 
In  America,  116.  Episode  lead- 
ing to  retirement,  117.  Influence, 
228.    See  also  Taglioni. 

Emmeleia,  group  of  ancient  Greek 
dances,   1 1. 

Enchainement^  defined,  its  function 
in  composition,  61. 

Endymatia,  group  of  ancient  Greek 
dances,  il,  12. 

Entrechat,  step,  used  by  Camargo, 
60.  Execution,  72,  y^-  Relation 
to  ballet  costume,  100.  Question 
of  origin,  146. 

Ethologues,  school  of  pantomimists, 
16. 

Expression,  abstract,  60,  61.  In 
ballet  composition,  89,  90,  91. 
Noverre's  ideals,  105.  Spanish 
Gipsy,  124  et  seq.  Sevillanas, 
138,    139.    See   also    Decoration, 


Composition.    St.      Denis,      221. 
Duncan,      243-246.     Bakst,      248, 
249.     Russian  re-creation  of  best 
Greek  dramatic  form,  251. 
Extravaganza,  229. 

Fandango,  the,  Spanish  dance,  141, 
142,  154. 

Fantaisie,   Fantasia    (Arab),  207. 

Farandole,  the,  French  dance,  183. 

Farruca,  the,  Spanish  dance,  127  et 
seq. 

Fatma,  dancer,  199. 

Feet,  positions  of.  Ballet,  66.  So- 
cial dancing,  276. 

Feis,  Irish  festival,  177-179. 

Feu,  la  Danse  de,  see  Fuller. 

Fight  with  Shadow.  Ancient 
Greek  dance,  19. 

Flamenco,  type  of  Spanish  dance, 
124  et  seq. 

Fling,  see  Highland  Fling. 

Flour  Dance,  The  (Arab),  205. 

Fokine,  Mikail,  choreographer, 
teacher,  dancer,  ballet-master, 
246.  Heads  Romantic  move- 
ment, 247.  Hypothetical  instance 
of  composition,  264. 

Folk-dancing,  influences  upon  it. 
Place  in  dancing,  etc.,  164  et  seq. 
See  also  Characteristic  Dancing. 

Forlana,  the,  Italian  dance,  156  et 
seq. 

Fouette,  75,  76. 

France,  folk-dances  of,  183  et  seq. 

Fuller,  Loie,  dancer,  235  et  seq. 

Gaditanae:   see   Spanish  dancing. 

Gaelic  League,  the,  attitude  toward 
dancing,  178. 

Gaillarde,  the,  court  dance,  43,  52, 
55- 

Galeazzo,  Duke  of  Milan.  See  de 
Botta. 

Galli,   Rosina,  dancer,  314. 

Gardel,  Maximilian,  dancer.  Re- 
belled against  mask,  102.  Ex- 
ample of  effect  of  French  Revo- 
lution, 108. 

Garrotin,  the,  Spanish  dance,  127, 
134- 

Gautier,  Theophile,  appreciation  of 
Ellsler,  no. 

Gavotte,  the,  court  dance,  52,  53. 

Geltzer,  Katarina,  dancer,  254. 

Genee,  Adeline,  instance  of  virtu- 
osity, 84.    Influence,  239. 


330 


INDEX 


Genee,  Adeline,  re-creations  of  art 
of  historic  dancers,  59. 

Germany,  dancing  in,  184. 

Geisha,  225. 

Gigue,  the,  Italian  dance,  43,  162. 
See  also  Jig. 

Ginsberg,  Baron,  252. 

Gipsy,  Spanish,  type  of  dancing, 
124.  Pantomime,  125,  126.  Re- 
lation to  Spanish  dancing,  128  et 
seq. 

Gitanita,  La,  dancer,  94  et  seq. 

Glazounow,  musical  composer,  248. 

Glissade,  Glisse,  68. 

Gluck,  musical  composer,  105. 

Grahn,  Lucille,  dancer,  118. 

Grape-Vine,  the,  figure  of  One- 
Step,  278. 

Greece,  ancient,  dancing  in,  6  et 
seq.     Present  day,   189,   190. 

Grisi,  Carlotta,  dancer,  118. 

Guimard,  Madeleine,  Dancer,   107. 

Guerrero,  Rosario,  dancer,  influ- 
ence, 239. 

Guerrero,  Rosario,  dancer,   139. 

Gustavus  III,  King  of  Sweden,  in- 
fluence on  dancing,  181. 

Greeting,  Dance  of  (Arab),  202. 

Gymnopaedia,  group  of  ancient 
Greek  dances,  11,  12. 

Hamadsha,  Mohammedan  observ- 
ance, 208  et  seq.  See  also  Re- 
ligions. 

Handkerchief  Dance,  The  (Arab), 
205. 

Harlequin,  157. 

Hazelius,  Dr.,  180. 

Hebrews,  dancing  of,  5,  45. 

Henry  IV,  King  of  France,  48. 

Henry  VIII,  King  of  England,  48. 

Herodias,  daughter  of,  5. 

Hesitation  Walts,  The,  social 
dance:  place  in  modern  ball- 
room, 272;  execution,  289,  290, 
291. 

Highland  Fling,  the,  Scotch  dance, 
167  et  seq. 

Hill,  Thomas,  dancer,  175  et  seq. 

Hippoclides,  20. 

Historians,  their  neglect  of  danc- 
ing, 9  et  seq. 

Holland,  dances  of,  182  et  seq. 

Horace,  27. 

Hormos,  dance  of  ancient  Greece, 
7.      . 

Hornpipe,  the  Sailor's,  character- 
istic dance,  171. 


Hornpipe,  the,  Irish  dance,   174  et 

seq. 
Hula-Hula,    The,   Hawaiian   dance, 

223. 
Hungary,  see  Slavonic  dances. 
Hyporchema,     group     of     ancient 

Greek  dances,  11. 

Iambic,  dance,  sacred  to  Mars,  13. 

India,  dancing  in,  218  et  seq.  See 
also  St  Denis. 

Inns  of  Court,  produced  masque, 
48. 

Ireland,  dances  of,  174  et  seq. 

Italian  characteristic  dances,  de- 
tails of  costume,  159. 

Israel,  children  of.     See  Moses. 

Jaleo,      informal      accompaniment. 

Spanish  dancing,  126. 
Jarrett  and  Palmer,  producers,  231. 
Japan,  dancing  in,  225  et  seq. 
Javillier,  dancer,  108. 
Jete,  70,  71.    Jete  tour,  j.  en  tour- 

nant,  yi. 
Jeremiah,  Book  of,  5. 
Jig,  the  Irish  dance,  174  et  seq. 
John    the    Baptist.     See    Herodias, 

daughter  of. 
Jones,  Inigo,  stage  decoration,  48. 
Jonson,  Ben,  composer  of  masques, 

48. 
Jota  aragonesa  la,   Spanish   dance, 

124,   150-152. 
Jota  valenciana,  la,  Spanish  dance, 

153. 
Judges,  Book  of,  5. 
Julian,  Emperor,  see  Church. 
Jump,  effect  of  length  analysed,  86, 

87. 

Kadriljs,  the,  Swedish  dance,  181. 

Karsavina,  Tamar,  dancer,  248. 

Kiralfy  brothers,  dancers,  produc- 
ers, 232  et  seq. 

Kolia,  ancient  Greek  dance,  19. 

Kolo,  the,  Servian  dance,  189. 

Kyasht,  Lydia,  dancer,  facing  p. 
247. 

La  Gai,  Louise,  dancer,  definition 
ballone,  74;  in  Italian  dances,  157 
et  seq. 

Lac  (le)  des  Cygnes,  ballet,  268. 

Lany,  dancer,  108. 

Le  Brun,  Father  Pierre,  see 
Church. 

Leo  X,  see  Pope. 


INDEX 


331 


Lesginka,  dance  of  the  Caucasus, 
217. 

Lou  Gue,  37. 

Louis  XIII,  performer  in  ballets,  48. 

Louis  XIV,  see  Ballet  Academy, 
French  National. 

Lind,  Jenny,  singer,  118. 

Long,  Patrick  J.,  dancer,  176. 

Lopoukowa,  Lydia,  dancer.  Basis 
of  academic  training,  89.  Sla- 
vonic dances,  191.  Part  in  Ro- 
mantic movement,  248.  Metro- 
politan Opera,  254.  Describes 
curriculum  Imperial  Academy, 
261  et  seq;  affected  by  American 
conditions,  308,  309. 

Ludiones,  25. 

Lycurgus,  regulations  and  recom- 
mendations concerning  dancing, 
7.8. 

Lyon,  Genevieve,  dancer,  274. 

Lyon  Chasse,  the,  figure  of  Hesita- 
tion Waltz,  290. 

Maccabees,  5. 

Malagueiia  {la)  y  el  Torero,  Span- 
ish dance,  143,   144. 

Castanets  in  la  Jota. 

Malaguenas  las,  Spanish  dance,  144. 

Managers,  influence  on  dancing: 
Chicago  World's  Fair,  237;  Jar- 
rett  and  Palmer,  The  Black 
Crook,  etc.,  232  et  seq. ;  imitators, 
233.  Sergius  Diagilew,  251,  252. 
Public's  share  in  blame  for  Amer- 
ican conditions,  305.  Exceptional 
undesirables,  307.  Commercial 
exigencies,  308. 

Manchegas,  Spanish  dance,  144. 

Mandelkern,  Joseph,  manager,  248. 

Mary,  Queen  of  Scotland,  169. 

Mascagni,  Theodore,  dancer,  156. 

Marianas,  Spanish  dance,  134. 

Mask.  Origin,  18  (inference  of 
Mme.  L.  Nelidow),  249.  Persist- 
ence, loi,  102. 

Masque,  early  steps  and  elaboration, 
36  et  seq. 

Matelot,  the,  Dutch  dance,  182. 

Mazurka,  the,  Russian  dance,  190, 
192. 

Maxixe,  the,  Brazilian,  social  dance : 
place  in  modern  ball-room,  272; 
execution,  300.  301. 

Media  Luna,  the,  {la  Demi-lune), 
figure  of  Argentine  Tango,  296. 

Memphitic,  group  of  ancient  Greek 
dances,  15. 


Menestrier,  Father,  choreographic 
historian,  29. 

Metropolitan  Opera  Company. 
Russian  ballet,  254.  Relation  to 
music  and  dancing,  255,  309-314. 

Military  training,  dance  in,   14,  15. 

Minuet,  the,  52.  M.  du  Dauphin, 
M.  de  la  Reine,  M.  d'Exaudet,  M. 
de  la  Cour,  57. 

Mirror,  figure  of  Minuet,  57.  See 
also  Bavarian. 

Mohammed,  see  Religions,  non- 
Christian. 

Monteverde,  musical  composer,  39. 

Moor:  see  Spanish  dancing,  also 
Oriental  dancing. 

Morality  of  dancing,  see  Church: 
Religions,  non-Christian ;  Sex ; 
Tango. 

Mordkin,  Mikail,  dancer.  Part  in 
Romantic  movement,  248.  Met- 
ropolitan Opera,  254. 

Moresca,  the,  43. 

Moritas,  las,  Spanish  dance,  134. 

Morra,  la,  see  Tarantella. 

Morris  Dances,  172. 

Moses ;  bids  children  of  Israel 
dance,  5. 

Mourning,  choreographic  expression 
of,  Greeks  (ancient),  13.  Span- 
ish Gipsies,  126.     Arabs,  207. 

Mozarabe,  see  Church. 

Mozart,  musical  composer,  collab- 
orated  with   Noverre,   106. 

Municipal  ballets,  6,  8. 

Murray  Anderson  Turn,  the,  fig- 
ure of  One-Step,  281. 

Music,  analogy  to,  see  Expression. 

Nagel,  Fred,  dancer,  188. 

Nagel,  Mrs.  Fred,  dancer,  188. 

Napoleon  (Emperor),  ballet  in 
Egypt,  109. 

Naturalism,  consideration  of.  See 
Ballet,  Classic. 

Nautch  Dance  (India),  221. 

Nemours,  Duke  of,  Ballet  of  Gouty, 
49. 

Nicomedes,  mother  a  dancer,  8. 

Nijinski,  Waslaw,  dancer,  247,  248. 

Noblet,  dancer,  109. 

Noverre,  M.,  ballet-master.  Re- 
forms in  French  ballet,  103.  Col- 
laboration with  Gluck,  105.  Bal- 
let compositions,  106. 

Obertass,  the,  Polish  dance,  192. 
Oiseau   (le)   de  Feu,  ballet  drama, 
268. 


332 


INDEX 


One-step,  the,  social  dance.  Direc- 
tions for  execution,  277-283  incl. 

Opera,  ballet's  place  in,  118,  119. 
See  also  Metropolitan  Opera. 

Otero,  dancer,  139,  239. 

Otero,  Jose,  teacher,  writer  on 
Spanish  dancing,  124. 

Oriental  dancing :  distinguished 
from  Occidental,  213-215.  See 
also  St.  Denis,  Composition. 

Ostrander,  H.  C,  traveller,  208,  217. 

Pas  de  Cheval,  85. 

Pas  de  Chat,  85. 

Pas  de  Basque  (step),  74,  75. 

Pas  de  Bourree  (step),  74. 

Passecaille,  the,  court  dance,  52. 

Passepied,  the,  court  dance,  52. 

Pantomime,  distinguished  from  ab- 
stract expression,  62  et  seq. 
Noverre,  107.  Spanish  Gipsy, 
125.  Arabic,  200  et  seq.  Greek, 
249,  250.  Rome,  250.  Augustin 
Daly's  interest  in,  306.  See  also 
Expression. 

Pantalone,  Doctor,  157. 

Panaderos,  los,  Spanish  dance,  149. 

Pavane,  the,  court  dance,  43,  56; 
influence  on  social  dancing  of  to- 
day, 271. 

Pavilion  (le)  d'Armide,  268. 

Pavlowa,  Anna,  dancer ;  academic 
discipline,  89.  Instance  of  vir- 
tuosity, 92.  Part  in  Romantic 
movement,  248.  Metropolitan, 
Opera,  254.  Expression  as  to 
tendency  of  ball-room  dancing, 
303.  Canadian  Royal  Opera 
Company,  314. 

Perchtentanz  of  Salzburg,  184,  185, 
186. 

Philip  of  Macedon,  wife  a  dancer, 
8. 

Pirouette,  defined,  76,  79.  FouettS 
P-,  76,  77',  variations,  78.  P.  sur 
le  Cou-de-pied,  79,  80;  P.  com- 
posees,  81. 

Pito,  finger-snapping,  accompani- 
ment Spanish  dancing,  131. 

Plato,  his  valuation  of  dancing,  4, 
7. 

Plie,  75,  76. 

Pique  tour,  89. 

Pointe,  sur  la:  in  ancient  Greece, 
88;  erroneous  ideas  concerning, 
93 ;  instances  of,  barefoot,  93,  94. 

Poland,  see  Slavonic  dances. 

Polka,  the,  181. 


Pirouette,  76-81,  83. 

Pope  Alexander  VI. 

Pope  Eugenius  IV,  31. 

Pope  Leo  X,  45. 

Pope  Sixtus  IV,  45. 

Pope  Zacharias,  32. 

Prince  Igor,  ballet  drama,  266. 

Prevost,  Frangoise,  dancer,  49. 

Public    (American)    in    relation   to 

dancing,    229,   232,   233,    269,    304 

et  seq. 
Pylades,  25  et  seq. 
Pyrrhic,    group    of    ancient    Greek 

dances,  15. 

Quadrille,  see  Contredanse. 

Raphael,  stage  decorations,  44. 

Rasch,  Albertina,  dancer,  314. 

Reel,  the,  Irish  dance,  174  et  seq. 

Reel,  the,  Scotch  dance,  170. 

Reel  of  Tulloch,  the,  Scotch  dance, 
170. 

Releve,  69,  70. 

Religions,  non-Christian,  Greek,  6 
et  seq. 

Religions,  non-Christian,  relation  to 
dancing.  Egyptian,  4.  Greek,  4, 
i\  et  seq.  Roman,  24,  25.  Mo- 
hammedan, 196  et  seq.  Der- 
vishes, 216.  Hamadsha,  208  et 
seq.     India,  224. 

Rene,  King  of  Provence,  36, 

Renverse,  its  aesthetic  significance, 
61. 

Revolution,  French,  effect  on  danc- 
ing, 108. 

Riario,  Cardinal,  composed  ballet, 
.45- 

Richelieu,  Cardinal,  composer  bal- 
let, 49. 

Rimski-Korsakow,  musical  com- 
poser, 248. 

Rincce  Fadha,  the,  early  Irish 
dance,  177. 

Roger  (Sir)  de  Coverley,  the, 
English  dance,  177. 

Rome,  dance  in,  22  et  seq. 

Romantic  Revolution,  the  Russian. 
See  Russian  Ballet. 

Romeo,  Angelo,  dancer,  80. 

Rond  de  Jambe,  81. 

Rose  and  the  Dagger,  The,  panto- 
mime,  139. 

Russian  Ballet,  for  comparison,  see 
also  Ballet,  Classic. 

Russia,  characteristic  dances,  see 
Slavonic  dances. 


INDEX 


333 


Russia,  Court  Dance  of,  195. 

Russian  Ballet.  One  field  of  its 
new  material,  58.  Artistic  sanity, 
99.  Isadora  Duncat>  influence, 
241-247.  Re-creates  best  of  Greek 
drama,  251.  Plavs  in  Paris,  252. 
Metropolitan  Opera,  254.  Mis- 
representative  appearances,  255. 
Relation  to  Imperial  Academy, 
257  et  seq.  Compared  with  Clas- 
sic, 263.  Scope,  266-268.  Influ- 
ence on  social  dancing,  269,  270. 
See  also  Ballet,  Classic. 

Russian  (Imperial)  Ballet  Acade- 
my: favored  ward  of  govern- 
ment, 245 ;  conditions  of  entrance, 
257,  258;  disposal  of  pupils,  258, 
259 ;  curriculum,  259-261 ;  care  of 
pupils,  262;  synopsis  of  history, 
262,  263.  Influence  of  Roman- 
ticism, 263-266. 


Sailor's  Hornpipe,  see  Hornpipe. 

St.  Basil,  dance  in  his  Epistle  to  St. 
Gregory,  30.     See  also  Church. 

St.  Carlo  Borromeo,  canonisation 
of,  35  et  seq. 

St.  Denis,  Ruth,  dancer.  Influence, 
199.  Cobra  dance,  220.  Her  con- 
tribution to  art,  221,  222,  223. 

St.  Isidore,  choreographic  composer, 
see  Church. 

Salic  priests,  24. 

Salle,  de,  Marie,  dancer,  49. 

Sallust,  observations,  27. 

Saltarello,  the,  Italian  dance,  43, 
163. 

Samuel,  Book  of,  5. 

Saraband,  the,  court  dance,  52,  54. 

Saracco-Brignole,  Elise,  dancer, 
teacher,  156. 

Saracco,  George,  dancer,  ballet- 
master,  233. 

Serpentine,  see  Fuller. 

Saturnalia,  dances  of  ancient  Rome, 

Scandinavian,  dances  of,  180  ct  seq. 
Scissors,     the      {las     Tijeras,     les 

Ciseaux),     figure     of     Argentine 

Tango,  295,   296. 
Scheherazade,   ballet   drama :   Voli- 

nine  in,  86;  in  character,  268. 
Scotch  Reel,  the,  see  Reel. 
Seguidillas,  type  of  Spanish  dance, 

136,  141,  144. 
Seises  of  Seville,  see  Church. 
Seville  Cathedral,  see  Church. 


Seznllanas,  las,  Spanish  dance,  136- 
140  incl.  Instance  of  a  competi- 
tion, 94. 

Sex,  dance  in  relation  to,  8,  24. 
Ellsler  and  Camargo  contrasted, 
no,  III,  115.  Spanish  Classic 
and  Flamenco  contrasted,  128. 
Chicago  World's  Fair,  199,  238. 
Arabian  Handkerchief  Dance, 
205.    One   manager's    belief,   239. 

Siciliana,  the,  Italian  dance,  43,  163. 

Sikinnis.    Ancient  Greek  dance,  20. 

Simplicity,  Greek  and  Roman  com- 
pared, 22  et  seq. 

Sixtus  IV,  see  Pope. 

Schuhplatteltanz  of  Bavaria,  187  et 
seq. 

Shean  Treuse,  the,  Scotch  dance, 
171. 

Shiloh,  daughters  of.    See  Judges. 

Skansen,  the,  180. 

Skraldt,  the,  Swedish  dance,  181. 

Slavonic  dances,  190  et  seq. 

Socrates,  8. 

Soleares,   las,   Spanish    dance,    152. 

Sophocles,  8. 

Spanish  dancing  costume,  details 
of,  135,  142,  143,  149,  153. 

Spanish  dancing,  its  place  in 
history :  Carthaginian  province, 
Roman  entertainment,  121 ;  Moor- 
ish influence,  122;  Century  of 
Gold,  122. 

Spanish — put  in  Rome. 

Spear,  ancient  Greek  dance  of,  I9. 

Spectre  (le)  de  la  Rose,  ballet 
drama,  268. 

Square,  the,  figure  of  One- Step, 
279. 

Spilled  Meal,  dance  of,  ig. 

Staats,  Leo,  dancer,  ballet-master, 
80. 

Steps,  classes  of,  definition  of,  67, 
68. 

Stoige,  Otto,  see  Pirouette. 

Strathspey,   the   Scotch   dance,    171. 

Style,  ballet,  some  elements  of,  91, 
92,  93,  96,  97.  Russian  and  Clas- 
sic compared,  263-266. 

Sur  la  pointe,  les  pointes,  position, 
aesthetic  significance,  61.  In  an- 
cient Greece,  88. 

Sweden,  dances  of,   180  et  seq. 

Sword  Dance  (Scotch),  the,  167. 

Sword  Dance   (Turkish),  216. 

Sylphide,  la,  ballet,  116. 

Sylphides,  les,  ballet,  268. 

Szolo,  the,   Hungarian  dance,   193. 


334 


INDEX 


Tabourot,  Jehan.     See  Arbeau. 

Taglioni,  Marie,  dancer,  contributor 
to  ballet  steps,  58,  112.  Refer- 
ence by  Thackeray,  no.  Indi- 
viduality, III.  Rivalry  with  EUs- 
ler,  114  et  seq.  Performance  for 
Queen  Victoria,  118.  Influence, 
228. 

Tango,  the,  Spanish  dance,  127  et 
seq. 

Tango,  The  Argentine,  social 
dance :  history,  271  ;  progress 
hampered  by  its  varied  execution, 
275 ;  moral  aspect,  291,  292,  293 ; 
execution,  294-300. 

Tarantella,  the,   Italian  dance,    158. 

Tcherepnin,  musical  composer,  248. 

Temps,  definition,  67. 

Tencita,  dancer,  154. 

Time  markers,  17.  See  also  Casta- 
nets. 

Toe-dancing.    See  pointe,  sur. 

Tordion,  the,  court  dance,  52,  54. 

Toreo  Espanol,  Spanish  dance,  155. 

Tour,  see  Pirouette. 

Tourists,  dancing  for.  Tangier, 
etc.,  205.    Egypt,  210. 

Treaty,  Anglo-French  concerning 
dancers'  contracts,  109. 

Tulloch,  see  Reel. 

Turkey,  dancing  in,  216. 

Turkey  Trot,  The,  see  One-Step. 

Turn,  the,  of  One- Step,  277. 

Vafva  Vadna,  the,  Swedish  dance, 
i8i. 


Vestris,  Auguste,  dancer,  102. 

Vestris,  Gaetan,  dancer,  teacher, 
102. 

Victoria  (Queen)  influence  on  dan- 
cing, 118. 

Vingakersdans,  the,  Swedish  dance, 
182. 

Virginia  Reel,  the,  American  dance, 

177. 
Vito,  el,  Spanish  dance,  155. 
Volinine,    Alexander ;    instance    of 

virtuosity,  86;  academic  basis,  89; 

part  in  Romantic  movement,  248. 

Metropolitan  Opera,  254. 
Volte,  the,  court  dance,  52. 
Volteo,     el,     figure     of    Argentine 

Tango,  300. 

Walk,  the  {el  paseo,  le  prome- 
nade) figure  of  Argentine  Tango, 
294, 

Waltz,  the.  Probable  origin,  75. 
Universality,  183.  The  Rhein- 
lander  Waltz,  188.  See  also  Bos- 
ton; Hesitation  Waltz. 

White  Fawn,  The,  ballet  spectacle, 
233. 

World's  Fair,  Chicago,  238. 


Zambelli,  Carlotta,  dancer,  78, 
Zarabanda,  the,  old  Spanish  dance, 
122.     See  also  Saraband. 
Zourna,  dancer,  199  et  seq. 


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